Marching the Combat Zones We’re Supposed to Call Home (A brief free write)

A brief freewrite I did in regard to Black Rights. No title.

We have the right to remain
angry about corruption in the justice system.

To remain indignant about being profiled and shackled to an opinion of oppressors,
fired up as long as our people are being fired at.

To remain fed up with the notion that our lives are not worth an indictment,
on the front lines of this battle, marching the combat zones we’re supposed to call home.

To remain appalled by the lack of consideration for our humanity,
we have the right to remain.

We have the right to remain.

I read We’ve All Got Eyes, Man for #BlackPoetsSpeakOut

I wanted to get out there and DO something, participate in the change, lift the weight of the onslaught on justice with my own bare hands. But I didn’t know how. I kept asking, “What do I do?” and everyone kept telling me the best place to start was my talent, to raise my voice. In The Issues, Sharon Olds writes, “Don’t talk to me about Politics. I’ve got eyes, man.” That line plus the current state of our nation sparked this poem. So I thank blackpoetsspeakout for creating a place for us to make noise and demand change in a positive way. This is my voice, this is me saying I will not be silent. I will use my words to assist our cause.

I’m published online!

Hey! I’m really excited to share that one of my newest poems, Reasons Why Loving You Was More Entertaining than Watching Prime Time Television, was published by GERM Magazine and is currently on their home page!


One of my goals for the year was to have a poem published and I am so happy to have accomplished it! I hope that you guys will head over to GERM and read this poem, leave some love and then check out some of the other content they have!

Read: Reasons Why Loving You Was More Entertaining than Watching Prime Time Television

Free write Friday!

This week we had a pretty interesting photo as the prompt for FWF, I hope you enjoy my take on it! This is how I’d feel about my wedding dress/day (if I believed in marriage, but that’s a whole different post I suppose).


I’m supposed to be dainty
And fragile.
Laced bodice
Silk sleeved

Pristine blanched fabric draped across shoulders
that he is appointed to keep weightless
hugging hips he is supposed
to keep bearing the weight of his blooming seeds

I am supposed to be smooth curves
A place to sink  into
But I am so much more

I am the land he will build his home on
I will share his burdens
and the weight of his struggles
will rest equally on my shoulders

I have sharp edges
and fierce-ness pouring from the depths of my eyes
I am powerful
save the fragility for moments that call for it

I am unbreakable
No lace bodice
Silk sleeved
pristine on my body

I will wear my backbone on our wedding day
Pearls along each vertebrae
Demonstrating that wife is not synonymous with weak
Showing how beautiful strength really is

FWF! And my 300th post!

So I’ve been absent from Free Write Friday for a while now but I’m glad I had a few minutes today to sit down and write! This is also my 300th post oFWF! And my 300th post!n this blog (whoo hoo)! Anyway, the prompt was:

My attempt:

Some days it just doesn’t make sense.
Not any of it.
How we threaten with palms tight around unlit matches
And eyes falling in love with gasoline canisters
Without hesitation

We forget that we are forests
We are branch limbed
And wildflower tongued
We are all too willing start something we cannot contain.


So that was my contribution to the prompt, hope you enjoyed! 

Something has tried to kill me and failed…

Earlier this year I had the privilege of competing in the Women Of the World Poetry Slam (WOWPS) and it was an amazing experience. One of my favorite aspects of that weekend was the workshops held by amazing poets like Gypsy Yo, Denise Jolly and Mahogany Browne. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to make it to all of the workshops, just the ones by the poets I mentioned. The poem I am sharing with you all today comes from the workshop facilitated by Mahogany Browne. We covered a lot of ground in her workshop and I wish I had even more time under her wing as she is a phenomenal inspiration.

The prompt we were given was to use this as our muse: “Come celebrate with me today. Something has tried to kill me and failed.” After we began to write Mahogany would toss out a random word every now and then that was to alter the path of our thoughts and it was our job to mold our words around that and make it coherent. Here is what happened (words in highlight were the words she tossed out if I remember correctly).

He took my heart
left me gasping for breath.
I was nearly buried in the spot
he abandoned me in. 

He was savage 
I swear he was
in the way he reached into me
and twisted until my pulse was his to control

When he told me it was over
I swear, 
He was savage

Must have been out for blood
Used to be the cave I dwelled in 
he was the place I’d go to 
when things weren’t or shouldn’t have been

Now he is the place I am held hostage
he is the unsafe space 
I thought was home.

He used to be the warmest blue
now, I swear it, 
he is silver cold,
winter white has got nothing on him

His love was once a roar
I couldn’t shut out
now he only sounds like an incessant hum of
It’s over. It’s over. It’s over.

I am under my skin naked
gasping for the air I gave his name
as if my lungs, gliding over and under, 
could tell my esophagus to call him back to me

I am covered in rust 
the way I cried for him
the moment he walked away from me
turned me tarnished

I wonder if it’s because she laughed more
smelled like something prettier,
like lavender.
Sustained him the way water sustains,

I wonder if she knows how he will take her love
and rip it, bend it, make malleable of it
as if it is not supposed to be stronger than steel
I swear he will, I swear it.

He tried to kill me, my heart, with his love.
He failed. 
I wailed
maybe like a banshee for all I know

I gave him hours he didn’t deserve
but when dusk came,
when it settled in around me like dust
I was still here

Breathing air I gave a new name,
my own name
as if my lungs, over and under, 
could tell my esophagus to call me back to myself. 

I hope you guys enjoyed this. I thought that prompt was awesome because it takes what you are writing onto a completely different path! Hopefully I will get the time to edit this and clean it up a bit as it is in its original form. Thanks for reading! 

New Video! (Monster)

Hi there!

I’m really excited to share my official video of the poem “Monster”! I shot this video to accompany my debut poetry album, In the making, which was released May 1st. I hope you guys enjoy the poem!

A lot of people have said that they can relate to the content of this piece. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the topic. How does this piece make you feel? Have you ever experienced something similar or witnessed the aftermath of someone else’s experience? What do you think we can do to lessen the frequency of this situation? Can we even dream of lessening the frequency of this situation? Tell me what you think.

I’d love for you to connect with me on twitter @talichaj
I’m also on Facebook