Yesterday.   Today.  Tomorrow. Or, This is Untitled Work (A Poem about Motherhood)

  The dreams of brown mothers Murmur and hunt For the void of dark blue/the forgotten/untrue/disbelieved pocket/where their male kin and children Are snatched captive/to rehearse again/the Breaking of bones and bloom To fit Unnatural untimely graves/ Earth unearthed too early/too soon/   Too many lay assembled/in unholy work/ Becoming food for roots/hungrily groaning/ Growing/strange…

“I Be from The Bronx”

    I be from cold yellow snow and hot okra gumbo, Born of Father from Morningside Avenue, Mother of Charleston. As beat and breath, I dwell at 145th and Amsterdam, the school on the hill, the hills, hollows, and holiness of Harlem, Fish Fry Fridays, handholding walking to school. Five flight walk-up in-labor Mother…

NaPoWriMo, Day 29, “Unchained Descant”

  Sirens can animate deserts, even in their throats. Unflowing blood heaves songs, harboring Chanting chattering ancestors/salt water and lemon juice assault then squint untamed tongue. Blues river down from tabernacles of mountains. The pastel of past faults Saunter down to valleys of black swan song.  Awaiting. Hands blister and char hovering over the lingering…

isis knot

NaPoWriMo, Day 8, “Mother’s Marrow”

    Both sons were born wintered, planned predictions, One whose breath absorbed morning, the other clasped midnight. New moons. Unhurried beginnings. Untrammeled.  But, They will expire, someday, from a choice (hoped). Intentioned. Perhaps of blessed blues, promises kept, savored years choosing sonorous surrender.   It will be for motives no one else chooses, because…

The Yarde Family

NaPoWriMo, Day 5, “Black Parents”

      As another day climbs sorely into bed, we Unfold and cuddle, cradling wonders and real   Wounds, unfurl pressures, praises and prayers. Cool Comfort folds finger by finger, cementing how we   Parents breathe into and out of the cusps left By questions never broached in school,   Asked now.* The two…

Plate by Plate

Making Memories Plate by Plate

Food is sacrament. Forkful by forkful, something old unfolds and something new begins to take its first breath. Food is sacrament. Through its creations and sharing, I am educated in how to give and bless back the family and friends that purpose my living. Family albums bloom with snapshots where we celebrate anniversaries, show thanks…

Keith and Maceo. Brotherly Love

Unpacking Motherhood

  Being a mother is backbreaking work.  At the end of the day, the toys are collected and recollected, rooms cleaned and disinfected, floors swept and mopped, and the stroller unpacked of toys and books and snacks and blankets and anything else needed for a day of play outside of the house. At the end…

Of Hair and Origin

In this guest blogpost, Tricia Amiel, a mother, writer, adjunct instructor and former teacher, takes an introspective and candid look into the intersection of race, identity and self-perception.  She divulges some hard truths and hurts that emanate from others asking her questions about her roots.  Then, in turning affliction into learning opportunity, she discusses how…

Strength, Courage and Wisdom: The Makings of an Urban Teacher

In this article, Carla Cherry shares her personal and professional evolution, divulging how she helps students actualize their humanity and academic success.  It’s an intimate look into the makings of an English/Language Arts teacher, and the difference she is trying to make in students’ lives within the NYC educational system. Fundamental to her familial fabric…

Woman, Wife and Mother: An Evolving Intersection

As a new wife and mother, I experience jubilee and juggling.  I receive constant fulfillment yet expend breath and best guesses finishing challenges.  I stand in an intersection of past/present/future.  This triptych daily positions me to negotiate divergent responsibilities, prior obligations and new undertakings, obliging yet unifying them all.  Hopefully my intimacies, epiphanies, and suggestions…

Looking into the Mirror of a Great Divide: How We Define Ourselves at the Expense of Others

In the recent blogpost titled “Black Canadian Like Me,” Alyson Renaldo suggests a contention between kindred of shared borders—Black Canadians and African Americans. She recycles the “Black on Black” crime of people of shared African Diasporic experience disliking and distancing themselves from each other, suggesting that cultural cluelessness, assimilation, and a “lack of reaching back”…

This Woman’s Work: Blueprints for Being an Activist

Article for Bronze Magazine Anniversary Issue, November/December 2011 “a woman sleeps as if tomorrow a war will begin” –Vera Pavlova For the 1st anniversary of Bronze Magazine (http://bronzemagonline.com), I wrote this article about the activism of women locally and internationally.  It highlights the involvement and investment of women in efforts spanning environmental issues, AIDS awareness,…