Floetry: Them

“They weaponize their niceness,

I sit across from this beautiful Black sister

And know she ain’t said nothing but a word

Less than 3 hours later

My beautiful Latina sister says the same

Maybe not the same words

But it’s the same

They weaponize their niceness

They cry their tears

Wail about their good intentions

Bemoan our “bitchiness”

Decry our “divisiveness”

All while spitting on our truth

Stomping across that bridge called our backs

They spew their false claims of sisterhood

Believing even their own best lies

Ol’ boy said it best:

“Y’all helped right along with the heist;

Ya just didn’t like your cut”

And yet they are my allies

My comrades

My friends

I should be grateful

Or so they say

They weaponize their niceness

And I’m tired of getting shot

Dedicated with much love and respect to M.S., D.M., A.M.H.², and all the other WOC sitting in the crosshairs.

Floetry: Be still 

Sitting quietly and still until the dust settles

Until the roaring and thundering fades

Peering into the gentle waves, I can see the bottom so clearly

Straining my ears to the sudden quiet, I hear the whisper of the still, small voice 

And imagine:

All that dust, all that noise 

Comes directly from me;

I stir up the tempest with my fears, anxieties

With my desperate attempts to scratch my way to truth beneath the surface 

With my desperate attempts to scream my way to a perfectly pitched calling

It is I who obscures 

When all You ask is that I be still 

And know You 

Floetry: I love walking through graveyards 


I love walking through graveyardsThe dead don’t say much

Don’t get me wrong 

I didn’t say they don’t say anything

I said they don’t say much

They understand the value of silence 

Of time

They’re in no hurry to explain accuse exculpate 

There are no arguments debates soliloquies 

Just quiet

And the occasional whisper 

A reminder to honor the dead

And the living

And time

Floetry: That was a good book

I’ve recently gotten back into my poetry writing. So I’ll be dropping some lines in here for you all from time to time as the Spirit moves. 

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“That was a good book”

I read that book and now I just wanna eat it

Cram it in my mouth and chew sop it up with a biscuit

Roast it on an open spit drizzle it in gravy plough right through

Rip it apart page by page at the spine and suck the marrow dry

Take the binding soak it in broth get a good stew going

That book was so good I wanna dice it up fine slice mince sprinkle it on some chips serve it with carrot sticks

I devoured it with my eyes my mind but that’s not enough it was a really good book 

Open my center pour it in I wanna start it all over again