She say for her family
she do what she can
when in reality it be for her man
who wants another mother like her son
so she wipe both they asses / and then her tears cause it be from the same shit
too tired more / more tired than / her mother who
taught her how to stay
who lived and died the same way
the palm reader etched on her palm.
now that she know,
she can remain calm
when he comes to bed
smelling like fuck nut and dried saliva
he’ll say it’s all in her head
so she close her eyes and have nightmares
of forever being a fool.
from the poetry book, Pocket Honey Wind & Hips
available at
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I wish there were another icon to press besides “LIKE” for I do not like the subjugation of one person over another. With that being said, your words are powerful, so very powerful.
This is one of those pieces that some people accept and some people do not. Hey, I’m a writer! I write all stories, the good and the bad! Thank you for receiving this poem.
So horribly true and raw.
Perfect description, “horribly true and raw”
Raw and poignant. Beautifully written.
Yea, sometimes you just have to get “real” with it!
We men demand way too much and I am glad you write what you write! Your power touches to deeply as does the love!
Reblogged this on Living Small in a Big World and commented:
A great poem from a wonderful poet!
Thank you!