Category Archives: national poetry month

07:30 A.D.

womansideways

henna tatoos decorate the stretch marks
across her chest
from loving many ways.

and they like ’em like that
scratchin’ hipbones with no itch

they like ’em searchin’
movin’
grindin’

glossy lipped and eyed
Nike “just do it” wearin’
southern cookin’
Sunday swearin’
county children raisin’

so much
too much

they like ’em like that.

nikki skies from the book “Pocket Honey Wind & Hips”

 

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20:30 A.D.

tiredblackwoman

Ain’t nobody talking about it
But,
the strong black woman is tired by Tuesday.
and on Thursday,
She buries another virtue so Friday morning can be a
little lighter

let’s admit,

She goes for unavailable men
cause of Her father’s absence.
And today
it’s your problem
cause your daughter plays with Her daughter

So
I need you,
To care for her.

-nikki skies

from the book “Pocket Honey Wind & Hips”

21:30 A.D.

slavesonbeach

I forgave my ancestors for not defending the shoreline
and I occupy their transgressions consciously
through poetry
and I know the tears of disclosure from the Creator
so I sit beside you all night and won’t speak
in fear you’ll find me out
or laugh at the songs that escape my vagina and armpits
but I do love you.

 

after all

She said all it would take is $10
to sense the spirits around me
and read my future.

voodoowoman

But I tried to tell her it wasn’t me I was worried about

my prayers are blown to the
sunset gray ridden waves
that have washed my wishes and haunts

my prayers are for the
street prophets freestylin’

thinking they showed me love and let me slide
ignorant to the active place of genocide
in his backyard and her bosom.

I pray for abandoned children with two parents

I pray so long sometimes I fall asleep
and dream of the ancestors

I dream of heaven

I pray for women with deep
uterine itches
that only her missing child can scratch.

I pray poets with purpose
plant potent seeds for
progression with poise

I pray the baroque docks
so other poets can simply stop.

I pray this teaches those that know
that they don’t
so we can hold each other.

The incense hypnotized the seconds
as she checked her clock

she ended up
giving me $20.

  • nikki skies, from the book, “Pocket Honey Wind & Hips”

Gifts for Mother Maya by Jolivette Anderson

 

 

Maya Angelou’s works have been criticized as works of “uplift” and not genuine art. What are your thoughts on this?

Jolivette:  Art must be functional. Artist must be critical thinkers who observe, analyze, interrogate, and offer solutions to the problems within their (our) communities. As a poet, Dr. Mother Angelou observed the pain of her people.

She analyzed the conditions of her people. She interrogated herself to see how she could best contribute to the ongoing work, begun before she was born, to help heal the hurt and pain of her people. It is obvious that her answers came in the form of ‘be positive’ and ‘uplift’ your people with your work and words and your work-in-words. There is nothing more genuine than seeing ones own humanity and the humanity of others and being positive in the face of treacherous negativity.

How would you characterize Angelou’s style—her language, her tone, her choice of metaphors, and so on?
Continue reading Gifts for Mother Maya by Jolivette Anderson

Gifts for Mother Maya by Reverdia da’ River Woman

 

 

1) Although Angelou writes almost exclusively for African Americans, she has a huge following from other races.  Why do you think this is?

The Honorable Mother Maya writes from her experience as a human being first.  Yes, I know that sounds cliche’-ish… “same-ing”, if you will, the initiation of a struggling explanation, but if one listened to ‘Mother-Sister’, you can sense what was an insistent appetency to set right and at the same time comfort in her addressing us… all of us. Although her literary gifts to us were addressed from a woman’s eyes, simply because she was one, she was the glowing and towering, vibrant, flowing seductive and insistent, yet sweetly confident member of this human race first and wanted us all to feel that same sublime rendering of naked and free’d expression of self.

Little girls, givers of life- [where her story and destiny begins] come in all colors and influences and each deserves love and encouraging and protecting.  If the opposite is present, the difference dissipates and only the commonality of pain and tragedy, joy and ascending, remain- none of which is specific to any particular race, opinion, or culture.  Her living is / was certainly on common ground with the human spirit set in each of us regardless of  our location or station or not; as well as her truths. That kind of naked, bold, unencumbered, raw, vivid, biting and sometimes seducing caressing, and loving truth in her writing, sets us all on common playing ground.

How would you characterize Angelou’s style – her language, her tone, her choice of metaphors, and so on?
Continue reading Gifts for Mother Maya by Reverdia da’ River Woman