World, Please Calm Down




Sunday, December 8, 2013

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Nikki Giovanni is a world-renowned poet, writer, commentator, activist, and educator. Over the past thirty years, her outspokenness, in her writing and in lectures, has brought the eyes of the world upon her.

One of the most widely-read American poets, she prides herself on being “a Black American, a daughter, a mother, a professor of English.” Giovanni remains as determined and committed as ever to the fight for civil rights and equality. Always insisting on presenting the truth as she sees it, she has m…See More

My Immovable Truth is produced in partnership with MAP – Make Art with Purpose for MAP 2013: Creative projects that restore and preserve the environment, promote social justice and advance human knowledge and well-being. From October 1 – November 24, 2013 throughout the greater Dallas Fort Worth area. For more information:
These exhibits will be shown from October 28, 2013 to Feburary 28, 2014 at the African American Museum 3536 Grand Ave Dallas, TX 75210 (214) 565-9026
My Immovable Truth: a Dallas lineage
This exhibit begins to manifest the history of several African-American Dallas residents who openly identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and same gender-loving people. Their tangible memories unfold as art, documents, photographs, video, objects and words that reference complex and active lives. This is a multi-generational story of spiritual and political courage that has had to address racism within the dominant Dallas LGBT community and homophobia/transphobia within parts of the African American community. These archive collaborators have fought battles on the most vulnerable of personal fronts as well as within corporations, bars, churches, on the streets and through a variety of art forms. This exhibit brings into public view just a few of their stories, fragments of a much larger history. The truth represented here is enduring, shifting, immovable, and vital. This is history, all our history, and it forms a powerful lineage that commands recognition.
For more info: Artistic Director – E.G. Crichton
Living in Limbo: Lesbian Families in the Deep South, photographs by Carolyn Sherer is a contemporary exhibition honoring the current complexities of lesbian family life in the South. The exhibition provides an intimate view of a population that has been largely invisible or underrepresented in public art. The images challenge viewers to envision a world without prejudice and discrimination— a world that celebrates commitment, family and inclusion for everyone—a world without limbo. For more info:

New Poem


Coffee cup
With rose raised kinda corny pattern
Slightly chipped
Bought for 59 cents
At a thrift

Got me to thinking
Someone or ones
Had a life with this

Now it’s mine
All the cracks imprinted

Stained perma brown
On the bottom
From the multiple coffee and tea

Once sick I used it
As a soup and bread carrier
And wondered
If on the ruins
Of some great

This is how
The ones who remain
Like if the previous owners
Of this cup
Felt when I turned it
There and there

Cracked myself up
Looking at at my future
As a weather wrinkled
Dark walnut skin
Of my self

Telling my future cup owner
“now careful, it’s got some lives
Left on it”.



The jazz blows the skirt of
a high neck
martini glass
High siding
lady in black and silver
Bowing to the eloquence
of need
Jazz players talk with
their eyes and listen
with their hands
to break though
the language barrier
A sound as intricate
as a lover’s moan
when the sun is full on her face
Dapples of minor notes
glowing from your breath


When I unfurled the flag
of my independence
I went to the club
got a bar tab
ate soul food,
my favorite song
played over and over
I burned the document
that imprisoned us
As the song says
I was better than fine
In a sober moment
I watched the fog roll in from Twin Peaks
sipped a mug of comfort and coffee
remembered how soft she was
The codega of how she smelled
when she moaned my name

Crunk Feminist Collective

Check out crunk-feminist…sonia sanchez post


I want to walk outside with you
Sweaty, negotiating traffic
cars cutting us off
fussing about your language
Fuming in a metal caravan
to the store

Calling each other stubborn asses
contemplating the price of milk, eggs
Indifferent to the stares of folks
whose lives cannot allow

I want to walk outside with you
In a park ahhing over puppies, babies
Sitting on the grass
Throwing bread to birds and ducks
Coin of the realm to homeless souls

I want to walk outside with you
Dancing to the rock, salsa, rap,
From open and bass vibrating cars
Holding your hand
Paler than the moon’s smile

Runes Reflection

Runes Reflection

You never thought you’d turn out to be
one of those dried up used souls,
noticing the middle face lines;
mouth and jaw taunt to the point of pain.
Eyes warm, with cloudy warnings
wondering how you got
into these ‘of the world’ conclusions

answer someone’s scowl
With a dry ice stare
‘who flinches first’
slights thrown as players
caught cheating
in an ancient game

begging permission
for a moment of clarity
realizing that numbing
doesn’t work anymore

the next person that
shoves something
down you, at you
you’ll chunk it
as far as hell will allow

walking into the shell blue
building that you think
holds the roundel to the
beast inside your head

you smile at a woman
shorter than you
sole sentry of an
adult child 20-30 years old
propped in a motored chair
you remind yourself
not to stare at the
mosaic lots your life has cast

What Price Beauty?

What Price Beauty

I’m held, a willing captive in an 8×10

The  Salon Environmental rack holds

tools of her trade

The chemical smell of beauty

emits from the pores in the wall

I view an artist portfolio made by her daughter

a soon to be designer of New York catwalk fame

The beautician, 5th generation Nubian pride

can chart ancestors who worked chair to chair

with Madame C.J. Walker

I’m watching with fascination

as Ms. Georgia alternates between washing my hair

flat ironing a women’s hair getting ready for a

wedding recital

and watching the soaps

“keep your hands off other peoples women”

she shouts to Bo

The Jamaican woman sitting across from me

smiled at me voice thick

shyly, but with a hint of coquette

she states that there is a gentlemen from her church

fancying her

well of course he would, Ms. Georgia says

we’re going to turn this head just right,

so you can turn his head