It’s the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I’m a woman Phenomenally.

Poetry puts starch in your backbone so you can stand, so you can compose your life.

A certain person wondered whya big strong girl like mewouldn't keep a jobwhich paid a normal salary.I took my time to lead herand to read her every page.Even minimal peoplecan't survive on minimal wage.A certain person wondered whyI wait all week for you.I didn't have the wordsto describe just what you do.I said you had the motionof the ocean in your walk,and when you solve my riddlesyou don't even have to talk.

Late OctoberCarefullythe leaves of autumnsprinkle down the tinnysound of little dyingsand skies satedof ruddy sunsetsof roseate dawnsroil ceaselessly incobweb greys and turnto blackfor comfort.Only loverssee the falla signal end to endingsa gruffish gesture alertingthose who will not be alarmedthat we begin to stopin order to beginagain.

Carefullythe leaves of autumnsprinkle down the tinnysound of little dyingsand skies satedof ruddy sunsetsof roseate dawns roil ceaselessly in cobweb grey and turnto blackfor comfort.

Take the blinders from your visiontake the padding from your earsand confess you've heard me crying and admit you've seen my tears.

And still I rise

You may trode me in the very dirt. But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Sugar cane reach up to GodAnd every baby cryingShame the blanket of my nightAnd all my days are dying