Category Archives: spokenword poetry

9th Ward, I Saw You

I finally saw where you ran.  I finally saw where you climbed.  I rode on the freeway you slept.

I wept.

I saw your cobble mixed streets and humidity strangled window panes

the markings on your porch remain / your neighbor remain refrained from returning

and we partied on Bourbon Street.

I saw how you thought it’d be safe to stay / I saw where the levee gave way

…the Mississippi lived up to her name, Mighty.

like yellow stained teeth from coffee and smoke / I saw

the flood stains that remain against your doors and fences and house panels

up to 6 feet / too deep for grandmother and her 55 year old niece

and we partied on Bourbon Street.

and I saw the roofs where you climbed / the shot gun houses with attic crawl space

for the young to cling to who were small and few

I know how you pray / so I know you thought it’d be safe to stay

forgive us for not pouring some spirits on the streets for your soul of mind.

9th Ward, I Saw You.  I saw where you met Katrina.

 

inspired by a New Orleans visit 6/2013 -copyright nikki skies 2013

One Day White Woman

As clear and high standing

as that evening table chandelier

be that woman’s candle of insecurities if she be

pssssttt at again / or danced about to a funky beat

And then this woman / who agreed it would be ok to die quickly

if she could be beautiful for just 10 years

no vegan / no fast

keeping everything out help her skin stick to her bones at last

caged inside foul swallowed down upchoke

she dare not speak out in skin cancer’s name

cause she don’t like her skin tone either

but she agreed it was okay to die quickly if she could be

beautiful for just / 10 years.

Even though I love my mama to re-birth and heavens

some love the white woman enough to vacuum out the fats that God gave

to protect the baby in the womb and the hips to carry them bye bye.

But we continue to eye each other down

cause you’re sick and tired of me and my sister girl walk / like

I’m sick and tired of you and your valley girl talk

now / we begin to eye down Asians and Latinas but quickly dismiss them from the game

cause this war be ours / black woman against white woman

you love the way I look  / I love the way you look

so who said we had to hate eachother?

you love me thick lips / like I love your thin waist

so you shape your new breasts to be as perky as mine

and I straighten my hair like yours time after time

…. if we love each other so much

maybe one day /

I’ll love me enough to help you teach men and the world that you are a

beautiful white woman / short legs, long torso, flat ass, thin lips, thin hair

beautiful /        beautiful.

and maybe one day you’ll love you enough

to help me teach men and the world that I am a

beautiful black woman / long legs, short torso, fat ass, thick lips, thick hair

maybe one day / white woman.

excerpt from One Day White Woman copyright 2005 Nikki Skies

How to Drink Moonshine

You drink moonshine with the honest intentions of getting drunk. Drunk with good memories of thigh slapping laughter and fistfuls of sticky dish candy.

You drink moonshine with grown moments. Not shallow kisses or store bought espresso shots.

You drink moonshine with album covers laid across your living room floor. With cheap candles burning against 24 year old wallpaper inspired by a Barbara Streisand movie. Moonshine is ancient.

You drink moonshine from a frosted green glass, by yourself, upon the smell of the Saturday rain. Get drunk with solitude and independence and darkness and patience. The same way it was brewed away from company.

You drink moonshine with open toe mary janes and slightly chipped purple polish on your big toe. Living fly. With a summer strapless dress wearing a too little bra. Carefree and comfortable. Cause hell, the bra is holding half of ’em in.

moonshine
monkey lines
rip tides

Me time. Moonshine brings precise direction of tomorrows paradise and yesterdays error arrows. You drink moonshine in the morning shower with singing alongside the radio.

You pass moonshine times to the ones you love. Hot, steady nights saving on the electricity bill with wet white sheets atop floor fans. Moonshine banjo. Moonshine phone dimes.

You drink moonshine when it’s right
to get it right.

You drink moonshine by yourself, upon the smell of the Saturday rain.