Before I leave 2013 Dad you need to know......

Sometimes I'm afraid of what not having a male figure in my life can do to me. I'm afraid of what has happened and what could happen because I'm not protected.    
   
Sometimes I just want dad to be here or at least tell me the truth as to why he's not.
 
 My mother never kept you away, daddy you left. And I'm scared everyday because of it. Why can't you understand I'm your baby girl and I don't want you, I need you. Take away my scared.

      Warm me with your hugs, I sleep cold at night. Part of me is broken! I love you every day, even if you don't know it or know it and don't care.
   
       I cry every night, hell I'm crying now. Dad, where are you? My arms have never closed and never stopped accepting your pure or tainted heart.

      I just need you to do your part, or at the least pretend.

        I look just like you. Brown eyes and all. How could you walk away from a love so pure? So true? So real? Daddy I love you?

        I'm 15 sitting next to 7 year old Jazzmine. I asked her did she know why Daddy left??! Parts of you left when drugs became a factor and so did parts of me.

        Seven year old Jazz is nothing like me! Honestly she didn't even think about you! But now toys and TV can't hold my attention, I need my father to hold me.

       Tell me that my body is private, tell me to keep my pockets closed, head up and chest covered. Tell me I am Gods greatest treasure. Never let me doubt myself. I never let you doubt yourself. Through prayer I give you strength, do you stop to pray for me too?

         I don't want your money. I only want your love, any bit of love is perfect enough. How will I ever know how to love a man when you never showed me how to be loved by one?

        My sexuality could be an effect of my being lost. Daddy, come find me. Reassure me that I'm smart. Tell me about God and if you don't know him I suggest you read his book.

        I'm crying, come dry my tears. Dad I just need you. And even if you never see this, I forgive you.

Love like Summer

We loved in the darkness during the day time. We finished. Then pulled the shades back and let morning reveal her self to us. We walked on somebody's ceilings but, called them our floors, much like I walked into your heart and left it Beat less. 

      

 You no longer have a heart beat so you beat on other women out of aggression you have for me.  

You didn't know it but, you beat my soul every night you said you loved me but, revealed the breast of another woman to your eyes much like summer rolled over next to you in bed & kissed you good morning. 

       

   I never knew what parts of me you never loved so I gave you all of me. I never hesitated to fight my longings for success because of you 'cause undoubtably you came second to my God only & third to non. 

        

Non of those things we wrapped ourselves in exemplified what love we had for each other. We danced in dawns windows to a melody that only the best of perfectionist in the orchestra could play along to. We wrapped ourselves in should have's, could have's, would have's but, we never did.  

        

We raised our children off of government cheese and wale fare pay checks. They thought we had love like James and Florida Evans but, non of our kids won the title of the Love child; cause I never loved you. Well....I never confessed to it. 

         You spit on me with "I love you's" but, danced with mistresses around our sanctuary. I never could live with out it. You kissed her then kissed the private parts of me & I never could have confessed to it. 

      I shut up and shut down. Washed myself with rags and crystals and if ever asked I never confessed to it. I walked on your heart like floors cause you loved me like I was your option. I loved you like summer in the winter time. 

A Sacrifice For My Father

For one to be saved, one just be crucified. I guess I was the sacrifice you made for your crack pipe and dust. You never did appreciate me. 

Wishing on swishers for your love, I walked along bridges of suicide and rape because you never pointed me toward the stars.

They didn't ask, they tired to take it. And I didn't have a father to run to, to hide in his arms from the hurt. He was too bust shooting but, not for the stars. 

I am the product of a clean trap house. Jazz music based by the rhythm of abuse. 

You named me Jazzmine to neglect the fact that you never loved my mother, and only loved your drugs because they were the only thing that could wrap you up at night cause you never came home to me. 

Sometimes I wish I never knew you. I'd rather have a million questions than a million burn marks from each time you chose crack over me. 

I've written you 10 Father's Day letters and only mailed 6 to your New York Address. They've all come back with silent apologies that I've accepted into my soul. 

I know you're sorry and even if you're not I forgive you anyway. 

I know you're hurting. I'm hurting for you too.... Mother tells me I'm a lot like you. 

             I disagree....

I fight your demons off me everyday, dash them I'm make up and make them look more like me.

 The Jazz music you despised taught me how to beautify your addiction. Make it look like my home is clean and hide the pipes and the sprinkles of you, you left behind between the seams of my mattress and finger tips. 

You never told the truth, you only told me about the you that addict victimized. 

The truth behind the "Do you love me?" You always danced around the question but, never gave the truth. Always replying "You know how I feel about you!" 

Yeah but, do YOU know how I FEEL about YOU? Do your know that I hate you at times? I hate the fact that I spent so much time loving you in spirit I forgot what it's like to love you in person.

Do you know that I feel like you hate me too? If I already knew how you felt about me I'd be convined you hate me at night just as much as I love you. 

As long as you and God need me to be, I'll be the sacrifice to save my future daughter. I'll be willing to hate you in the dark but, love you to your face. Even if you don't appreciate me, I'll always appreciate the examples and lessons your life has taught me. 

  I'll always be the sacrifice for my father.

Transition

Everyone's obsessed with being Presses, permed, curled, gelled down & sexy. But no one really know's what it's like to be pretty... Better yet, no one even wants to know what it's like to be beautiful. 

We've all found these cat calls and whispers to be pretty to our ears but, we have yet to find a cup of confidence suitable for our smiles. 

Smiles that have been tainted by our sisters viscous words. Why does what team we stand on define our social guidelines? Light skinned, dark skinned, that shit don't matter. At the end we all African. 

The dust from our Great Grandmothers slave shipped & Raped finger tips is the ash between our brown toes. But we're too dumb to love every crevice of our parts. 

And you're too dumb too see that my natural is my beauty, I know you aren't aware but, there's a such thing as natural beauty. You're much too busy being pressed, permed curled & gelled down into sexy to notice my transformation from my butterfly to beautiful. 

I pray, that my daughters never have the heart of an evil like yours. It doesn't matter if their heads full of cotton like hair doesn't curl like the other yellow, brown girls. I'll still let them know there's a beautiful chance of their bellies dancing over their belt loops. 

Even if their mirrors looks unfamiliar to them, I'll let them know; they are a beauty not to be ashamed of. A beauty not to be minimized into just sexy. They are a beauty from a long line of brown, yellow, brown, brown, and some brown real brown girls who are more than Pressed, permed, curled & gelled down into sexy. 

We're a line of big hips & even bigger hearts. Open minds & open books. We're a line of blood that's traveled the underground rail road to God. So, when you poke fun at my fro, take a good look because this fro knows what a Shame it is to have been you once. 

I didn't know the beauty of being myself until I got a grip onto me... I guess you have to get a grip onto you too. But until then, find the beauty in being pressed, permed, curled & gelled down into sexy. The world is a lot more than just Sexy. 

Baby Sister

Life is the value of love after sunrise, 

The crooked smile in liars and the 

Stutters in my heart beat. 

 Life for me was wrapped up in you. 

With all of my body I knew you were

My only way to happy but, God

Knew greater than me. 

I loved you without a second thought.

Every heart beat I heard, I knew you 

Were mine but, God wasn't ready 

For me to be yours. I loved you before 

Noon every Sunday, when I should have been resting.

I cried for you every second you

Were gone and shielded my eyes 

From your ashes cause that's as

Close as I got to seeing you. 

I wonder what your eyes looked like. 

Is Your smile like daddy's or are you as 

Beautiful as mommy? Baby sister, 

I never spoke of you cause I was 

Afraid of missing you. 

I didn't even know there was a possibility 

Of missing someone I've never met,

I've missed your soft silhouette and curly 

Hair. 

I missed out on your entire hand

wrapped around my finger tips.

You were my world. My something 

I could have smiled at on lonely 

Nights. My baby doll and my 

beauty Queen. You are still my

Sister so, I pray for your soul

More than my own.

The ripples in my heart beat when ever

Momma speaks of you lets me know 

She misses you. 

Love after sunset is reserved for the

 ones  like you. The ones who never

Took a step but, constructed a ballet

In my spirit that spelled out your name 

Across my heart

Whenever I blink in the mirror, I see you.

Whenever I smell my palms, I breath you.

You are apart of me infinitely. 

You may not be bigger than an infant 

But sweetie, you are always my sister.

   Baby sister, I only dreamed of holding 

You. Holding you like I held God on

Sundays. 

Holding you like I held hot frying pans of

Anger. I hold you like shackles on a 

Prisoner, I am prisoner to your love

And this sentence never runs

Out. 

I may run out of breath when speaking 

Of you but, I'll never run out of love

When loving you. 

Loving you in pieces is better than loving 

You not at all, pieces of me still hang onto 

You even when there's no you to hang

On to. 

I painted your room yellow and put dolphins on your wall. I know that 

Combination isn't ordinary but, true love

And sisterhood now in days isn't 

Something that lasts forever, they 

End faster than your life could start. 

I guess our relationship will never be

Ordinary and, I'm okay with that. 

As long as you and I understand what 

This love means, we are the only ones 

Who matter. 

So baby sister, hold this here in your 

Heart: The sky shall always be Blue and 

Heavens gates shall always be White. 

Our love has been lead by the knowledge 

Of God so, there's no such thing as 

Suffering.

Your life are the ripples in my heart beat 

So, even with our breath, I'll always 

Wake up to you. 

Life is as beautiful as your could have

Been curly hair and silhouette. Even 

With out breath, you are still my love

Photo curtsy of @Syleecia

 (Dr.Syleecia Thompson)

Granny

Granny, 

I watched you for 15 years. 

Sweat on forehead. 

And Boiling pots of greens on the stove all while juggling 

6 children and 

10 Grand children 

in your bosom. 

I watched you bend your back but never break at the seams, 

you wrote the definition of Classy. However, in Tchula Mississippi 

you never attended classes. 

You were too busy dabbing your sweat with 

The fabric of our lives, 

no matter what the white 

people say. 

you dabbed your sweat 

with cotton from the fields.  

you were never a slave. 

But, the cruelty of Madea 

left you 

in scorching suns & bare foot. 

Her anger left you fear shook. 

   

 I remember the story of her almost making strange fruit out of you.

Fear in my ears listening to you, 

my heart stood on its 

tippy toes in standing ovation 

of you. 

Your the only black that escaped a noose

 already tied around their neck by one who was their same 

black. 

Blue. 

You. 

     You, taught me to 

never see color cause 

your first love was

 black as a oil slick. 

You called him Willy. 

Willy didn't care you

 had my momma at 14 

by a yella man. 

My papas name is 

Jack. 

Sunshine for short 

of making it shine in the 

mid night hour, 

you taught me color is 

never important. 

    That in love, to be color blind.

     Jack, 

as Indian as he is, 

he loved you & his baby girl like

 he loved his Salt pork collared greens & whiskey. 

        

Chicago made your country hearts as city as my sin. 

Papa called me sin city, 

cause my daddy named me 

Jazz. 

Mamma told me you 

never approved of my father but, 

you never disapproved of my existence. 

     For 11 years I was the 

only girl in those last 

18 years to have the 

Malone blood, 

my daddy in spite named me 

Brooks. 

You wanted me to have your last name so the world could have someone to remember you by but, my name doesn't have to change to have that happen. 

      When your dead and gone,

 this world will remember you from the swivel in my hips, 

the holy in my tong and 

the yellow in my skin. 

      This world will know, that 

Louise 

Is not my Grandmother but, 

my Granny 

cause you walked with a lean 

you blamed on your arthritis but, 

I refused to believe cause you 

were too cool to wear orthopedic shoes. 

   They'll know you're my Granny from touching my arms. 

All the women in our family got them "wings," are what you called them. 

        Granny, 

 I admire every ball of sweat that never 

fell to the floor cause you were too strong to let any part of you 

fall. 

You always bend but never break. You resemble a palm tree. 

Always swaying from side to side but always strong enough to with stand the strength of any storm. 

      Granny, you taught me how to dance in the rain cause I'm a woman, we always bounce 

back no matter how bad the pain,  

We always bend but 

WE

never. Ever. Break.

Sheldon

Who ever told you that mental patients don't deserve to be treated like human? Just because they have schizophrenic heart beats don't mean that their beat isn't worth dancing to. 

      They have just as much love in their sacrifice, upbeat tempo in they temples on a good day and they also know it's okay to be themselves. 

       Sheldon, they told you you'd never make it because of your stutters, your slurred speech & your irregular heart beat but, that beat taught me what being your best friend was really like. 

     That beat turned this world upside down & made earths rattles sound like a repetitive melody. 

     No one ever dared tell me we couldn't be friends because we were too different cause they knew, I'd razor blade bedazzle their jaws into an apology. I'd protect you without permission or recognition or even regret. 

       Sheldon, I'll march in any revolution & through the stoning of the sinless just to make sure America recognizes you human & their inhumanity. 

       Who said that people with mental desires can't be best friends? 

Sheldon is my best friend. 

   So, never feel sorry because we can't get on roller coasters together, I'll ride the Tea cups with you any day if it meant I could spare you the heart ache. I refuse to let you be defined buy the ignorance of the people and the preconceived notions of what it all means. 

      Sheldon you my homie. We taped daps & power claps when we were in the womb. Told the jokes off of bubble gum wrappers as if they were our own & called the same women mommy even though they weren't our own but, non of that mattered cause; even if forever never makes it to use you'll still manage to take the title of BFF. 

        Sheldon, even when you can't mumble the syllables of my nick name I'll always know when you're calling on me, we got that best friend telepathy. But, we're more like siblings and no one is great enough to be as great as you so even when you don't know yourself, never be afraid of you. 

The Brave

Allergies & emotions mixing like Tequila shots & Drama.  I felt your mouths pollen scrape the rigged walls of my Grammatically incorrect vagina. Incorrect cause thugs like you call it Pussy. Incorrect cause fucked up thugs like you, try to rape women & make the pulse in our palms & the pulse in our walls half as tight as they were before you shuffled yourself in between our legs like a track on a tape pulled out eight track. All over the place. 

      I reframed from making it appear that I was attached onto your bitter parts & that my body had nothing to do with that. But, I still can't wash you off me. My body feels like a trigger & my fingers, the suicidal teen that got not just bullied but, raped because a congresses man said that with my hip huggers & long hair, We rape easy. 

         I'm the trigger cause at any point I could fire & set this whole school off. First name Sandy Last name Hook. We are our own Sandy Hook. 

    This Tequila's making me latch my flesh to a trigger, my emotions is filling the Fourth of July into my uncles army gun cause, Iraq & Chicago started looking like fraternal twins 6 years ago. 

      This city could never put legendary on it's back cause too many girls want to become women so they arch their backs, lay on their back & wonder why America turns their back when they ask "can you bring my Daddy back?" 

       We're not America the Free, we're America the killers get to Walk free. We're not America the brave, more like America the cowardly. With our heads in the lions mouth waiting on Sam to claim us as his uncle. See, I'm starting to think that, that man's a stripper cause we throw more money at him than we do our own bills just to see him dance to a crooked tune & have dinner with our dollars that could fund jobs to end the resurrection of the false gods who spit bars that lock them in tragedy tighter than any noose could ever be.

       In these streets, we mix Allergies with emotions in excuse to pop Molly's & fuck bitches against their will...Call that rape with no rubber.  

Hung.

Today, 3,000 hymens split

like Cotten bushes picked by

Slaves that left blood on the leaves. 

     Today, you promised

 we'd hang out but, parts of

your body 

Hung 

out of your zipper. 

No, I didn't wanna hang today. 

Your noose like fingers

wrapped around my throat. 

You make bruises of

basement slavery look like 

passion marks. 

People thought I had a hickey. 

Fighting back tears as they 

Touched it, I re-felt your 

"Come here" motion finger 

Scrub across my lady lips. 

I cringed a bit.

 Not sure if 

the wet I felt was sweat 

Or tears. You almost made 

Me hate that fact that I called

You friend & your brother, brother

Scared that I could cold

 face stair into eyes that 

Mixed of mine and yours. 

 

I ran, bare feet and all.

ME, 

Scared of the body you

hollowed out by hanging me.

ME, 

scared of the wind 

Cause you blew on my neck. 

ME, 

Standing, tie in hand, 

ready to stand noose 

necked & naked before God

before I'd ever face you. 

3,000 hymens split today. 

But me, I was the one that got Away.

Souls of Us

I wish I could just crawl

Inside my shell & convince 

Me that I'm pretty. 

   I wish rain didn't 

Knock upside my window cause

I'm convinced it's Gods cry.

I guess that's why it's

Called window pain. 

My head is always down 

cause I never

Knew of a such thing as 

Confidence, I guess the

Idea of that was completely 

insane. 

If I had confidence the 

World would swear

 up and down

That I was conceded but,

   I heard through the 

grapevine that my being 

Is  beautiful but;

I wish my heart would tell me

that. I'm not sure 

how long I'll allow myself 

to be susceptible to

the cat calls & whispers but,

My body's hallow, no sure 

of how to pick my battles;

I'd just rather not fight. 

   I've been okay with

Loosing far too long and

I'm not sure why I picked 

Today to win when yesterday

Was my first option. How about

I choose tomorrow? I know

It's not promised but, winning

Is still no guarantee. 

    I'm lost within myself. 

My mother swears I'm

My father but, my father is

Like God. I don't see him but,

I know he exist. I'm failing 

because I'm holding faith

In my hand but, I can't 

Find the direction to my heart. 

     This drug is a coping mechanism.

Roll my blunts & inhale the 

Venom, the pungent smell

Of disaster is the devils 

Play mate. Playing chess 

with my soul like he's 

already won. Check Mate. 

Lash my soul with 

Sinners but, you will not 

create a master piece out

Of me. 

     This poem is my souls 

Song to the heavens asking 

God is there still room for me. 

Cause my being should be for

The good of me. 

      I'm not sure which part of

This is me & which part of this

Is you. I just know, this is the

Souls of women every where. 

       Is this really true.?? 

DIY LIP SCRUB

DIY: Lip Scrub. This Scrub gets rid of Dead Skin on your lips & adds hydration to Dry & Cracked lips. 

How'd I Make it?: 

•Extra Virgin Olive Oil

•Vaseline/ Patrolmen Jelly

•A Colored Lip Bald

•White Sugar 

•Brown Sugar 

Won't tell a soul

Some of a Woman's most 

filthiest secretes have 

stained the face of my teeth

in Secrete. 

    Don't tell nobody

    Don't tell a soul. 

Lips are sealed like ZipLock

bags filled with left over 

collar Greens from Christmas

time. 

     Don't you dare throw that 

     away. 

     Don't you dare let that go to

     waste. 

Have you no fear of Hell? 

Have you known what that

hell heat be like? 

   It be like a fathers knuckles 

   meeting a deranged boys face 

   for the first time. 

Heat be, hotter than face to

palm collecting tears and

riding them on your jeans. 

     It be like Fire shut up in 

     my bones. It's that heat

     that would burn your 

  fingertips if you be a smoking 

      fool. 

So Master, I beez the fool. Burnt

fingertips & green leaves for lips. 

  I beez the fool weed man. 

      But, as long as I shall 

      live; My mother will know

      no face of mine that dance

      with my Fathers Demons. 

I am ignorant...

    I bit into liars with

    my filth stained teeth 

    and adapted to the habits of 

    blaming you for what happened

But....What happened is drugs. 

Women.

And Secretes. 

     We wrapped ourselves

      in our innocence and 

     sprayed our remains in

     Perfume. 

Cover up the lies I tell you

Cover up the truths you

can't tell. 

And, pretend like it's okay. 

         You're a woman. 

         You chew your

          secretes. And

          tell no one. 

Don't tell nobody. 

Don't tell a soul. 

       Both sets of my lips

       are a delicacy. 

     Only touched by me. 

     Thought of by many.

       And attached to every

              apology letter

       I've ever written but, you

       never got cause' I won't

Tell nobody. 

I won't tell a soul. 

        All you should know is 

        my name. And that 

        may be a secrete too. 

My teeth won't tell nobody.

My teeth won't tell a soul. 

     

Mirror full of Hate

It's funny how hate has looked me in the eyes & pretended she didn't know. She told me Myths of how she Visited Demons with Halos and named them something as sacred as "Friend." Hate looked me in the Mirror & I didn't even know it. 

Beautiful Lavender

I've never seen someone 

So beautiful until I looked at 

lavender.

   A Smile like diamonds.

It danced in my soul 

the first time she told me

"You're Beautiful." 

A heart Of gold.

How could anyone 

Ever be so bold to 

Break anything that 

Could love with such 

Innocence.

   Some things don't 

make sense and

Maybe they shouldn't. 

But I like you. So 

Deal with it. 

Your face is ever so friendly 

To the smile that seems to

Rise when you like my pictures

Or snoop on my poetry. 

I think it's cute 

You find safety in my

Words and courage in my

Fear. 

I feared, you'd never notice

Me. 

If I fade into your

Memory and don't ever

Find my way to your dreams, 

please paint pictures of 

Me into the bible scriptures 

Incrusted in the folds

Of your eye lips. 

Lavender........

you're the 

chocolate Queen 

that fulfills every

Man & woman's dream

that's into that kind of 

Thing. 

You are far to beautiful 

To be described as just

Lavender. 

   I'll never call you

Something "sexy" because 

That word has 

Danced across the lips

To thieves, and the lesser. 

Only Royalty know's 

What beautiful jewels 

Such as you look like....

So Lavender, 

you are my 

Beauty Queen. 

I didn't know what 

beauty was, nor

Had I gripped 

My hands onto Royalty 

Until I looked at Lavender.