I am more than my feelings. I am more than resentment and bitterness. My timeless smile and unreserved laughter reminds me of that fact. I am every “No” my Mother Ancestors were robbed of uttering. I am an electric spirit. I am love and courage. I am passion and joy. I am the force behind the waves of the deepest oceans. I am contradictions and compliments. I am impenetrable and porous. I am the creator of Daughters of the Moon and Sons of the Sun. I am distantly present and present in my aloofness. I am the bittersweetness that lies at the very moment of impact between Agony and Ecstasy. I am the quintessence of creating more with less. I Am More. Nothing less.
First, I would like to send love to all of the readers in the United States, India, Pakistan, Canada, Ecuador, Romania, Russia, Croatia, Sweden and Denmark, who read the poem moments after it was published!
I was inspired to write this poem after receiving my inspirational Bible verse of the day. I use these verses to right set my day and provide a positive word when everything else we hear is the direct antithesis of positive.
For those of you who do not read the Bible or are unfamiliar with the “Love Chapter” I Corinthians 13, please find verses 4-7 form the New Living Translation for your reference:
“Love is patient and kind, not jealous or rude. Love does not demand its own way. Love is not irritable, and it keeps no records of when it has been wronged. It is never glad about injustice, but rejoices whenever the truth wins out…Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.”
I Corinthians 13:4-7
It was these words that inspired me to write an interpretation of added attributes of Love. I hope you enjoy it:
Side Note: If it is vicious, vindictive or destructive, it is not, never was and never will be love.
Love has a swag all its own.
“I Am with you. You are not alone when I Am here.”
“Things may not be perfect, but when we’re together, what we have will always be enough.”
“Others will do everything they can to destroy us. And I will protect us at every turn.”
“I will show you how to trust again and again and again…”
“No matter what may come, only I can withstand time, space and circumstance. Come. Take a chance and walk these shores with me.”
TRIGGER WARNING: This poem was written May 25, 2020 after the heinous murder of George Floyd one year ago today. This poem depicts violent imagery, yet not nearly as violent as what the world witnessed on the day (now) 7-year old Gianna Floyd had her father ripped from her life.
The contents of this poem may be haunting and are not meant for young audiences, those who have witnessed or have directly experienced forms of violence. Please be advised.
The Mothers Have Come
Our Mother Ancestors are enraged.
The pillaging of Black bodies at the hands of
white supremacist tyrannical delusions,
acts of violence and psychological warfare
have resurrected the spirits.
The Mothers have come.
There is more to be atoned for than white delusions can understand.
Our Mother Ancestors have grown weary from
their lineage being hunted down as prey
and hearing their last breath calling for their mother (we heard you)
or for air (we heard you)
or for change (we heard you).
Tears of blood running down our Mother Ancestors’ cheeks
as they hold in their hands each precious Black pearl
that they have been so careful to surround with love, power and hope.
Only to have those pearls drowned and suffocated in their own blood.
The Mothers have come.
Vengeance belongs to the Lord
and the Patrons of Vengeance are en route.
Weapons cannot save you because
you can’t kill what you cannot see.
You can’t apprehend what you cannot touch
and you cannot terrorize what is beyond terror.
Even Mother Nature has reached a boiling point
where she too is stepping in
with fire, famine and fear.
Nothing in your training has prepared you
for what is next.
The Mothers have come.
The Mothers have come.
The Mothers have come.
Updated: May 21, 2021
The inspirations for this piece were my daughter Makaila, the graduate students completing their Action Research requirement at the University of San Diego (especially the 1st year students I have been blessed to engage this semester), and all of our next generation leaders.
A special Thank You to Dr. Nydia Sanchez and Jessica López for the encouragement to do what I do!
Feel free to share this poem with any graduate or person who is moving to the next level in their lives. Also, feel free to reframe the poem into the first person and use it as an affirmation for yourself!
The Future Is Waiting For You
Our world is calling you now
to lead at a time when innovation must lock arms with compassion.
Call and response: The future is waiting for you.
When we have called for change
Your brilliance, power and hope have responded unapologetically “We are here.”
Call and response: The future is waiting for you.
Your Ancestors stand proud as you represent a mosaic of possibilities
and our community stands together as we see a loss of learning and the violent taking of lives.
In the midst of it all, you have steadied your hearts with courage, power and purpose
and have confidently continued your stride towards excelencia.
Call and response: The future is waiting for you (read 2 times).
May you all continue to thrive and keep moving towards liberation!
I feel your heavy heart.
I see you are trying.
You are not casco.
You will find joy again.
I welcome you home.
You have tried to be
what others have wanted you to be.
You are still discovering who you are, truly.
Let their construction of you crumble.
We welcome you home.
Your heart and spirit know you fully
and are aching for you to be what you are destined to be.
Let the lies disintegrate into fine particles of dust
and stand fully in your truth.
Your Ancestors applaud your courage
and dance to celebrate your deliverance.
You are home
and home has always existed in you.
Welcome back, Everyone!
I pray you and your loved ones are healthy and safe. As we begin to re-engage into our pre-pandemic ways of being; I hope that each of you are continuing to be vigilante about your health as well as the health of those around you.
My plan is for this post to be brief given what I really want to share with you lives in this week’s episode of More Than Metaphors. So, let’s jump right into it:
As we move closer to the middle of April, I find myself in as space of contemplative gratitude. You see, for some, April 15th may be filled with dread. Others are excitedly preparing for their tax refund. I have a very different view of this time of year because I happen to be born on April 15th. There was a time when I would treat my birthday as if it were a national holiday. However, given the events of the last two years (and well beyond), I am viewing another year of life differently.
As I prepare to turn 48 years old (how in the hell did that happen so quickly?), it has become more important for me to think about how, or in what ways I am honoring those who I have lost with the life I have been given. Kind of a heavy question, but one that sits with me as we mourn the death of yet another artist, Earl Simmons known by his stage name, DMX.
How are celebrating birthdays, the death of DMX and an episode of this week’s podcast entitled “A Poetic Love After the Snap” connected? I look to the words of Mr. Simmons’ family for the answer “He loved his family with all of his heart, and we cherish the times we spent with him.”
Love and cherish. Because it could all change in a snap.
Who are the people, places, things and circumstances that make you feel loved and cherished and you, in kind, love and cherish them back? This was one of the questions that was answered by my first podcast guests, Kian and ReShockie Furnace: Two divorcees that decided to give love a chance and have created a union based on friendship, love, mutual respect and a deep faith in their Creator.
Are you sharing your gifts out loud in the world where our next generation leaders can build, borrow and best-up what you have created? DMX did. If you have too, hats off to you! If you have not, what are you waiting for?
And as for the gift of another year, day, or moment of life; how are you honoring those you have loved and who continue to love you beyond this world? That is the question that I am reflecting and acting out in a far more intentional way.
I hope that you are continuing to learn how to love and cherish your days a bit differently, while continuing to learn, thrive and move towards liberation.
I am still sickened from the the news of the murders of 6 Asian women and 2 men by a 21-year old, disenfranchised white man this past Tuesday in Atlanta, Georgia. Someone (who was taken alive by police) who claimed his murders were not based on race, but because he had a sex addiction. A spokesperson for the police department (also a white man) when describing the murderer indicated the the murderer “had a bad day.”
As a Black woman, I have known a few bad days in my time. Yet, I never went out and killed anyone to express my pain or as a cry for help. This kind of pass for white violence stems from the white supremacist heteronormative misogynistic capitalistic patriarchy that allows for such an asinine excuse (spoken by an ass) to permeate in our society.
Yes, keep working towards liberation AND know that the fight for liberation belongs to us all.
Here’s a piece I wrote to help me fully feel my rage about this heinous crime and others it represents:
Your excuses are so dependable
As you show the world how expendable
Women of Color are.
you have had the wrong door
Yet, you have no restriction
of blaming us for your
He had a porn addiction.
He had a bad day.
They had the wrong apartment.
At least he stayed and prayed
…before he sprayed.
It has gotten way more than old
as body after body after body grows cold
while families have to piece together
a Gofundme page for those you have slain
while your delusion, once again
earns you more pity than the lives taken
while the news “circus” has your story
on instant replay.
BIPOC Folx are beyond tired of the bullshit you relay.
Keep your manifestos.
Keep your watered down apologies.
And very much, fuck your bad day.
As we “close out” Black History Month and welcome Women’s History Month, I am excited to announce my new podcast! I have been incubating this idea since summer 2019 with an anticipated launch of November 2019. By the time the holidays came in the U.S., I redirected my energy towards finishing out the rest of the year with a focus on my family and recommitting to new projects for 2020.
You don’t even have to say it…
For those of you who read my post “When Regret Teaches, Take Notes,” you already know that the lesson of waiting until I have everything in order, hit hard. Just as I tell my students and my clients, do not wait until you have everything “perfect.” Have a plan, absolutely. Do your research, without question. AND there will be times when you have to step out and trust that even if you do not have everything figured out now, opportunities, resources and people will greet you on your path (some call that taking a risk, others may say you’re stepping out on faith, while others call it stepping into the flow). So shine up those shoes, Dorothy and get to moving down that yellow brick road!
That is what I am doing right now, “easing on down the road” and I am looking forward to bringing you the podcast “More Than Metaphors.” Here’s the description:
“More Than Metaphors” is a virtual love space for those poetic and poetic-ish voices to examine the question: What happens when we find the courage to live our poetry out loud? A conversation led by Author, Educator, Entrepreneur and Poet Dr. Kecia Brown (“Dr. Kecia”); More Than Metaphors combines guest interviews and posts from Dr. Kecia’s blog which focuses on transformative learning, love, justice, and liberation. Each episode of this podcast will provide encouragement for leading more meaningful, spirited and poetic lives.
I want to thank my Sisterfriend, Author, Poet, Scholar and full-time Goddess, Dr. Yolanda Sealey-Ruiz for lighting a fire under me. She has been talking to me about all the things I can do to support the learning of others on a larger scale for quite some time now. The ideas sounded amazing…and time consuming. However, when you watch other people making the moves that you are “too tired” to make, a few things happen to you: 1) you become inspired, 2) you become afraid, or 3) you become a hater. Since I had been hanging out in the “afraid” category for a minute, I had two more choices. Since Yolie (as she is known by those close to her) has spoken into my spirit more times than I can count, being a part of her hateratti didn’t appeal to me. So, inspired and afraid is what we are working with for now.
I will be selecting a few posts from the blog to get us started. It would be great to hear from you on the ones that you want to see brought into the podcast! feel free to leave a comment below or email me directly: email@example.com with your suggestions.
Never miss an episode
In the meantime, enjoy my intro music created by Tim Moor.
Thank you all for your support! Let’s continue learning, thriving and moving towards liberation, together!
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Periodically, I will post poetry and prose in order to process what is on my mind or heavy on my heart. You have been forewarned.
You will forever be that forbidden poem that I will never write,
but whose words will dance and sing in my heart.
I will go on to write many pieces,
for that is what makes me feel connected to humanity.
But that poem is sacred.
That poem remembers me.
That poem’s stanzas enliven me
and causes blood to circulate faster,
with more force and greater purpose.
Yes, that poem reminds me of the purpose
coursing through my veins!
That poem acknowledges my personhood.
That poem sees my mind, heart and spirit
through tear-filled eyes and holds them with precision
between its smile and its laughter.
The cadence of that poem I will never write
will always inspire me to do my best,
even when my best is shadowed by what will never be.
That poem will always bring me butterflies of anticipation.
Yes. Butterflies as if MJ and Marsha did a duet in Paradise.
That intricate, serene flutter during a Jill-inspired Long Walk
on a crisp, clear Southern California winter day.
The poem I will never write will always keep me grounded.
That poem will always give me the strength to take risks,
because no risk can match the weight of daring to write that poem.
That poem with matchless intellect.
That poem that exudes resilience in the face of destruction.
There are those who may experience bits and pieces of that poem,
but not one of them will ever recite that poem in its entirety. No.
Only I have the full poem engraved on my heart.
That poem will always remain an inspirational piece
for I will never release its passion into a world that aims to destroy it.
And so, to the poem I will never write,
in the spirit of Syd’s toast to your cousin, hip hop
in the experience of Brown Sugar I say to you:
To the greatest poem I will never write,
I will never regret not experiencing you in this life
for it is you who will continue to hearten me.
To you, that poem I will never write
I loved you then.
I love you now.
I will love you always.