This poem is for the broken combs and blue magic For pink lotion and just for me texturizers I sat for 5 hours In a hot salon that smelled of crack conditioner and oil sheen There is where I learned that I defy gravity I learned that finger waves make your hair grow And essential… Read on
Tag Archives: poetry
But I do know that you’re the water I won’t pour
No need to water the plants of a world that’s so crossed
I have no way to run now, so together we’re lost. 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
We are all a little racist. It is not just a matter of black and white Or colors that do not blend in with the night It is the monster that hides away in our brains Driving our ingrained judgement insane. We are all a little racist. There is no predator there is no prey… Read on
The rituals we follow before November eighth
Empty the car and flood into the voter booth,
Me, and my mother, and my baby brother to boot. Read on
Cole, from Atlanta Word Works, describes the healing process of poetry and teamwork created by and for the Brave New Voices Atlanta team. Read on