black-poet

Take me back

To my favorite soundtrack 

When letters were sent 

And hands were held 

Where gentlemen walked

And knew how to talk 

When the music rocked

And you used to call

Just to hear my voice 

And that was your only choice 

And the cars cruised on

With the windows down.


This romantic fantasy

Lies only cause I want

To be taken to a different time

When maybe I could call you mine. 

forgot to moisturize my feet/ for four days straight/i say forgot/ like a prayer/ mutter it incessantly at the 8 bus stop/ miss the bus/ say forgot like a prayer/ forget my name/ forget to clock in at work & instead land/ No Where/ in this empty/ i still miss buses/ i use uber so i can feel wanted again/ in a No Where, i am picked up/ i ooze coconut oil on my driver’s seats/ they know better than to talk to me/ know i could siren my own damn self/ to sleep/ i’m making rosewater today & spraying it on my boxers/ i give my lovers herbs from the pockets of my leather jacket/ blk ophelia/ rosemary for remembrance/ lavender in my wigs/ shaved all my hair again/ christened myself anew/ everyday/ a new name/ i let it fall through my lips/ pour one out/ y’kno/ there is a shade for all of the me’s i mean to be/  i stole most of them/ from the drugstore/ i leave most of myself/ on other people’s foreheads/ they only want/ to wipe me off/ i am still so angry about the way we treated lil kim/ there is glitter on my face/

& we are both blonde today.
men don’t like the scent of me.
they only want/ to wipe me off/ so i’m crying/ again/ so it’s monday/ queen/ bitch/ pt. iii/ we know it ain’t cute//

it ain’t meant to be.

Laments for the English-Speaking Latina

    Is english your first language?
My only language.
     Where are you from?
Here.

I get all the questions
And have none of the culture.
All of the accent,
And none of the language.
I am the Nuyorican, Dominican York,
Native born, Brooklyn.
The Hyper-Americanized Latina 
The Hyper-Pigmented American 
Who can’t talk in her “native tongue”
But still wears her skin brown
And her hair in curls.
I belong to everyone and no one,
Which is the very worst way
To be alone.
I belong to no where.
The one they laugh at when
She tries to speak
And words get tangled on the tongue,
In Spanish,
And English, sometimes too.
Do I pronounce the “h” in this?
I can never remember.
La Gringa.
La Americana.
The one who’s not enough
In any language, 
In any color.
Too white at home.
Too brown everywhere else.
I belong to no one.
I belong to no where.

-Daniella De Jesús

The White girl laughs at Blacks who cannot swim,
The Black girl told the White girl,
I know all too well of sunken Black bodies marinating in the ocean.
Pools polluted with acid to burn off Blackness,
Police that pull up on pool parties where the barrel of their gun whispers “This is White only”

Dear White woman,
I prefer showers over baths because there is something about being submerged in a white tub filled with water that feels more waterboarding than cleansing

—  McKinney, Texas by kinghijabpin