Pick apart my nurtured nature
Relearn through the eyes of the wise;
Eyes of those here before,
With ancestries stretching back,
Across the Iberian,
To find a self not clothed
In stolen skins,
To find a self not privileged in another’s pain,
To find beneath the layers
A decolonized me
Tag: Poetry
Sanctuaries
Sanctuaries burn,
Lost are histories, memories,
Artifacts turned to ash,
Only stories are those locked in physical memory,
Lost are homes for souls in search of space,
In search of sacred ground,
Sanctuaries burn,
The world over,
And tears fall,
Tears fall,
That cannot out the flames.
Color Theory
Precious child,
You see my color,
But not your alabaster own,
This is the world you were born into,
Me, and the brown plastic babies in the playroom
Are the only introduction you will get to this,
Your little mouth agape
As you ask me in wonder
–A stranger really–
“Why are some people brown?”
And I’ve had a lifetime to prepare,
Tenderly, “Because we all have different skin colors.”
My skin is not an anomaly to you,
But a canvas to be admired,
You will grow and input will develop,
But may you always find beautiful too in
shades that may not be your own
Honey Bee
Your words are nectar
To this bee; inspiration!
–Poetic honey
Fear and Control
It’s the little things,
That go outside my control,
That I fear the most
Phoenix as Whole
The phoenix;
the fire, and ash,
All parts essential to
the new, the old, the now;
the whole me.
She of Letters 