Lizzie Unicorn

i have an alter ego. her name is lizzie unicorn. and shes fucking awesome. and rainbows make her cum. cuz theyre fucking pretty as allllllllllllllll hell. and chocolate. and pink feazther boas. and boys and bois. and gurlz. and liiiiiife and fuck you if you can't fuck with the yummy vibration of the yummygasm/godgasm and go find your own bitter/hell vibration. cuz im ridin this cozmic feathered rainbeaued orgasm of a snake bitch gawdess to the finite. or the beginning. so muah!!!!!! love you. and fuck is my favorite word. cuz it goddam is. period.

spontaneous omens, sortilege and augary

it means you will break your heart over and over again
on an understanding rock
until you can breathe without the assistance
of a black and mild, wine flavor
plastic tip.

it means you will gather the pieces of what-you-are
and what-you-are not
and sift them over and over again
until this holographic feed
back loop makes sense
to your I-
computers.

It means you will speak
until the corners of your mouth crack
and you realize silence
tucked between
your words

It means you will handle ribboned winds
still katrina-bitter
and hope the flesh
in between your fingers
doesn't get brush-burned

It means you will fold your legs around Shiva's back
and collapse time into an 0
while trying to decipher the meaning of your grandma's
fish dreams at a copper T-crossroad

it means you will get lost
in the weight of your own story
riding your back while you sleep
until you at least attempt
to wake up

watch your mouth

we tend the avatars of

god with such cruelty.

perhaps we have all

been stoned 

in one way or the other

but this is no way

to grow people. we

hold time in our

bellies 

medicine or poison

flies on our tongues

a dove

or a nightbird for the entrails

what bitterness

reaps, its hard medicine.

on nights like this

our hearts are important

so don't smash another's flowerbed,
tend your own jasmine garden

Simon Says Genocide

genocide puts chemical burns on your scalp. geno
cide puts ulcers on your lungs in a
newport and black and mild way.

genocide is a language that hates you and everything
that looks like what
you might be
without
genoc

ide makes you scared of mirrors gen
ocide makes you wanna erase yourself
from the inside out

genocide teaches you you began with slavery,
had a hey-day with Lincoln,
and reached the promised land with King.

Genocide makes your name sound dumb.

genocide makes you smack her, slash her, attack her, cut her
womb with words and razors she look like
you though geno
cide means you don't care inside sometimes
cause you aint worth it

Genocide gives your baby a proper name.

genocide even wears kufis sometimes,
locs sometimes, afros sometimes,
my face sometimes,
your face sometimes,

genocide aspires to white femininity.

genocide means your music makes your ears bleed nigga/bitch/smut/slut/snap/jumpoff/whore/ho/ but
you hard enough to bear it
genocide means you dont mind the
bullets or redblue redblue redblue lights
geno

cide means you don't think about tomorrow
and you don't think about yesterday
and you try real damn hard not to think about today,
either,

genocide says shut up.

genocide tells you this is the way it's supposed to
be, this is life, this is in your blood, your birthright is
jordans and jailtime, geno

cide is sweet as a honeybun, from a corner store
selling chips and blunts and pills gen

ocide is a trap house on every corner
and the trappers trapped like the snaps is trapped
and this whole life's a trap, o snap!

It's genocide!

____________________________________________




It is our obligation to love ourselves
It is our obligation to heal from oppression
It is our obligation to strive to see ourselves for who we really are.
 It is our right to be gentle with ourselves.
It is our duty to practice self-care.
It is our right to know ourselves as divinity condensed
It is our choice to see ourselves as whole
It is our struggle to see ourselves as worth it
we are worth it, and worth our struggle
there is nothing more worth our breath, our blood, our tears, our sweat, our joy, our love
than our lives

How to keep yourself from crying to randomness...

stare into the sun

and roll your eyes

three times,

 laugh

while pinching yourself numb

now close your eyes

rummage in the back of your head

for some life you forgot back there, some

reason your lungs still move air

and the earth hasn't swallowed

you whole. believe

you are not in vain

and this too shall pass 

<insert self-help statement here>

we have all seen the glory of

each other. I despair

my fear to love

you vast

as the ocean inside of me

with all the humility

of this star-born body

you may need to touch me first

and much

and often

and deep

and say 

these tears

don't last forever homie

this terrible.

ain't really even real, homie...

Yum Temple of Healing Fundraiser

http://yum.chipin.com/yum-temple-of-healing

So let me Say This

The hardest thing for a traumatized people to do is look in the mirror and love themselves, and their reflections. I say its revolutionary to open your heart up to your fam when you've been told it's seditious to do so. But you know what?

Let's love each other on a real level. That means we gon' get down in the mud with each other, and we gon witness each other and reflect each other til we see each other and we see ourselves.

I'm talking about a quality of love that I can't describe in this language, cause all this language give me is some jesus shit or some romance shit, and that ain't what i'm talking about. 

I guess that's why i call myself poeting, cuz I was born with a tongue that ain't mine, but that's not my point.

There is something fiercely beautiful about the strength of black women. and when i say strength, i don't mean the hard mean ass fuck the world attitude that we put on as a cloak to hide our tender hearts from the pain of being too other in a hegemonic world. 

i mean the strength of a black woman reflecting on her body-emotional,physical,spiritual,energetic,-body and tracing the scars of imperialism and oppression and abuse and neglect and self-hate with her fingertips

and finding herself. and sharing herself and sometimes its like a river

that's been dammed/damned and she floods all your gates and your defenses and you can do nothing but acknowledge her as a force of NTR.

and worship this reflection of self. because look,

i'm talking about myself here. and when i am connected to the flow of all that i am and am sure in what has spanned the breadth of time in me,

ain't nothin quite as beautiful but

i know the pain of tracing those scars like a puzzle

you tryna solve so that the devil

will give you back your soul only

you don't even understand why it's worth it in the first place cuz the 

greatest lie the devil ever told was that

you 

didn't exist.

and so when we trace it and unlock it, 

and unweave it and spiral back to 

and struggle for our own worthiness

in our own eyes

and strive to not only accept but celebrate

 the divinity of ourselves and our paths and our destiny

and when we cry, and grieve

when we laugh not in spite but in delight

when we show up as our black selves unafraid to 

shine a light 

when we speak to our core knowings

and know the circle is unbroken

and only an illusion will tell us otherwise,

it is then that we resist

it is then that we revolt

it is then that we begin to fight

when we begin to love ourselves

when i begin to love myself,

then we, you and i have already one/won

cuz an army of lovers 

cannot be defeated.

It was written in my blood that one day the dead

lovers that have fought

and been buried defending

their rights to love

would be born again.

they are here now

we must stand

the winds are strong

we will stand

remember who you are, lover

here we stand