Over the past 8 years, I have gathered that legends don’t explain themselves.
Over the past 8 years, I have seen black pride spread out amongst the 50 states in waves of melanin love and afro acceptance... Read on
Atlanta Word Works / all
The sun leaves goodnight kisses like a mother does to her child. The breeze dances across the water’s surface and the waves perform an endless routine that they’ve been practicing for quite a while now. Read on
Editors Note: Cleave Poetry is an experimental form of poetry that allows the reader to look at a poem in parts or as a whole. Both the left and right sides… Read on
I was supposed to be a fly on the wall
Just an unbiased observer
But when the chants turn gospels
And the streets of Atlanta turn to holy
You must become congregation... Read on
The wooden stairs creak more
My edges grow, leave, and grow again
Nostalgia becomes a person who haunts my daydreams... Read on
Don’t Bat an eye. Fly In the face of the place From which you ascended. Curtsy and smile As though you never attempted to flee, And embrace The new space… Read on
