She

She just wants to stay black and be happy,
not condemned if her hair is a little nappy,
and then if she straightens it, you still judge,
but off her pedestal she will not budge.

She doesn’t want to be looked at funny when she laughs so hard she has to snort,
Not shunned when you think her skirt is a little too short.

She has a round face, big thighs and a little tummy,
and pretty little lips just like her mommy.

Her soul is so sweet it drips nectar inside,
And no longer does she care to hide.

Regardless of what you say,
she thinks she’s cute and for that there are a few to blame.

One her mother, two her father, whom conceived her in love
and three the heavenly father who shined from above, to make,
the perfectly imperfect mix of DNA,
made a person so full of flaws but she makes them go MIA.
When you look at her you wouldn’t even know that shes a little insecure
and not so pure —– like you thought.

She walks gracefully and at 5 feet,
she stands tall as an evergreen tree.
She’s purposeful, kind, loving and smart.
The way God created her, mimics a piece of priceless art.
Yet she remains humble, caring and meek,
but watch out she can have a little mean streak! Only when it’s needed.
She will always try to be the best she can be.
She is me.

Advertisements

New York SOM

Sometimes I dream of packing up and moving to New York City,
to get lost in the hustle and bustle and see street art.
To play in the concrete jungle with the animals.
To stand in the city that never sleeps
silently,it’s too loud to even make a peep.

To be insignificant
But I can’t.
I’m afraid of what they may say.
Kinda like when you stay in the closet and won’t admit you’re gay,
For fear of repercussion
you never have the discussion.
You live a phoney life with your beard, excuse me, your wife
You have a nice house 2.1 kids and a dog, but still your head remains in a fog…

So anyway, back to me
So I sit and live a life where I constantly feel like I have already died inside,
If I don’t see New York soon I may cry,
Some wonder why,
Why can’t you just work pay your bills and die?
Because that’s not what I was made for!

So this score,

I must settle between what my mind says and what is happening in front of my eyes.
I’ve packed my bags and I am never looking back.
If you didn’t care when I was here you shouldn’t care when I am gone.
I’m leaving for New York tomorrow,
Like they say by the time you read this I’ll be gone.
What will they say? Who cares.

Happy Mother’s Day

It’s that time of year again! That time we honor the women who have kissed our boo boos, clean our noses and gave us life. We take mom out to dinner and maybe give her a card or flower, but do we ever stop to think what a mother really is? She is more than the pretty lady who fixed your dinner or tucked you into bed. She is a an unconditional heart always there to support you even when you didn’t make the right decision. She is the woman who may have worked outside of the home so you could have somewhere to live somewhere to be safe somewhere to learn create and grow as an individual. Being with mom was safe. She put your weird drawings on the refrigerator and told you you could be anything you wanted. Some of us have become singers, doctor’s, teachers, painters, CEOs and lawyers and it was all because that little lady you call every now and again believed in you when no one else did.

Happy Mother’s Day Monday