The Love Series: Cumming and Going

For years he came

and I went.

Last week we switched roles.

I haven’t seen him since.

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The Love Series: Stay

Tonight I wanna cross the lines

I wanna stand next to Darren Wilson and dare him to take another life

I wanna let my hair down so the wind can pass through

Come here

Let me say I love you just once more

Don’t walk out the door

I want you walking over my heart relentlessly

I will cry a small pond then turn around and let you kiss me

I wanna open my blinds

I wanna see the cotton candy skies filter through on the morning we make up

I just don’t want a quick fuck

I want love making

Knees shaking

Mind blowing



Don’t leave.

Stay a little longer,

Curb my hunger just one more night.

I don’t want to fight.

Not anymore

Pick your things up off the living room floor

And put them back in their place.

With me you are safe.

The only sound we should make is our body sex anthem

There is too much injustice in this world for us to keep on the way we do

Baby, baby.

I love you.

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The Love Series: Unrequited Love

I learned the hard way that love is,

More often than not,


I learned that the harder I tried,

The harder he denied

Loving me in return meant happiness.

Through the thick and thin parts:

Work, sad hearts,

. . . my body parts

From the

Style of my specs

To my idiosyncratic taste in cloth I choose to hug my feet

As I walk towards him in sync

With his energy.

I had high hopes

That maybe one day he’d get his act together

That maybe

He’d wake from a dream that featured a ring

Or fuck it

A vision of true love with monogamy . . .

He always trusted me.

But never once

Did he say

He loved me.

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The Black and Brown Ones

**DISCLAIMER: This poem is 1.) a slam piece and 2.) a journal entry that’s partially unedited. Everything is a work in progress, but the message is solid**

Don’t let them fall by the wayside.

Do not let their deaths be forgotten.

Refuse to let their murders go free.

                             Make their conscious bleed.

Awaken your voices.

Raise them so loud-

they trigger an earthquake

and systems of oppression come tumbling down.

I say,

Let our riots be our love language

Our marches acts of consummation.

Let’s birth out a plan.

Rage against “The Man.”

Raise your hands.


With your hood up- walk down the street with your Skittles and your drink.

Turn UP

Turn UP

Turn UP your music and enjoy that shit

Be not afraid of the White Man by day

Be not afraid of the White Man by night because you-

You are a matter of fact in this world that sees dark as fiction.

They have made a decision,

They have chosen to remind us time and time again

That this world is inherently for those with the least amount of melanin present in their skin.

So let me remind you, .

And don’t you forget, 

That our lives matter:

Mike Brown


Jordan Davis

And the slew of other black and brown bodies executed at the hands of someone who thought otherwise-

You are a gift

You are a treasure

You are fine wine and aged cheese.

Bring out the best in you,

Bring out the best in me.

Let’s bring out the best in each other-

Loving one another

And always.


Stand tall

In the face of injustice.

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Dear fellow writers, social justice advocates, feminists–all my followers:

I’ve been on a small, very uncomfortable writers block hiatus. I’ve lost faith in the humanity of the wold which caused my ability to reason and see perspective to vanish, leaving me dry and starved of inspiration. The straw that broke the figurative camel’s back was the situation in Ferguson, MO, a suburb of St. Louis. Mike Brown was shot in the middle of the street and left out in the open for over 4-hours. My heart bleeds heavy as I remember where I was when the story broke. After that and the onslaught of “it’s not about race” and “stop playing the race card” broke me.

But I’ve fought my way out of the slump and I have some of the most angst-filled poems in my notebook. I’ll be updating once a day so as to not overwhelm anyone. But buckle up. I’ve had enough and I’m in full throttle.

Love and Light,

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untitled #234

give me the lay of the land.
where does it sting
where does it cease
where does it hurt so much that it pleases

let me touch your world.
let me moan our body sex anthem
let’s get gone
let’s get lifted
flirting like school kids
we be
naked under stars
for it all to crash

and burn

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“Nate the Great”

You booger picking child
You son of a twin
You nephew of the same, he

My Mister #2

Loud talking fellow
Ride or die protector
My handsome Young King

You sweet little boy.
You soft comfy teddy bear

You, who give the best hugs,
are huggable tiny human.

I love you

Happy Birthday, big man!

-Tee Tee Breka

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