Hoodgrown AestheticPOC: Poets of color
Mitchka Herard
@toldbyher_
Serene Beauty
My ancestors say
I smell of Brown sugar and honey
They say my eyes sparkle
Like stardust
and my hair curls
Like the mystical patterns
Of Neptune
The rings of Saturn
Circle around my hips
To remind me that I
Have the power to gift another
With life
And so my ancestors cry
When I doubt the extent
Of my strength
They scream, when I forget
To worship the only home
the body I live in
They say to stop sexualizing
My tiger stripes
And start loving
My belly rolls
I look at myself and see
A perfect blend of imperfections
And so I beg my ancestors to
Let me taste
The sweet irony
That drips from their insecurities
In hopes that I may one day
Learn, to love my own
DJ Dunn
@happy_sad_sleepy
Untitled poem
Our assumptions leading to accusations will be our downfall
The blind leading the blind
Wading in the waters of our truths
And leaving us drenched in the answers we never wanted
From the questions we never asked
For how long will they weigh on the heart and linger in the mind
Until we are broken
And there’s nothing left to find
Eddie Maisonet
@eddiemstoryteller
Eddiemstoryteller@gmail.com
Egg Cream/ New Normal
Healer affirms I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Spirit & community got me.
Three summers at an ice cream shop, I made two egg creams. One during training- it found the drain. Brash boston accent ordered a chocolate one. Seltzer, syrup, milk. Manager told me it’s a Great Depression vestige. Who’d choose this over real rich ice cream. We have a deep need for richness, sweetness especially when everything is falling apart.
I find myself with roommate discussing shortages: using three squares or less of toilet paper per trip.
I find myself offered 90 day refills, teletherapy, newly livestreamed events. I didn’t have to ask.
I find myself full off smelling roommate’s clever use of overripe banana, a lone cup of apple sauce, pantry oats ground, dry roasted nuts: a vegan, gluten free recipe worth repeating.
I find myself before the man I can’t touch yet and he finally becomes my boyfriend. Through a screen, we shower one another with words and quality time.
I find myself remembering our fingers intertwined between us in his car. Queer internet adolescence prepared me for love when touch is dangerous and impossible.
I find myself in a new home during a pandemic, in a new normal. If I make it, I embrace this. Never thought I would understand the urgency of an egg cream until I adapted my idea of what makes a treat sweet.
I affirm I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, and thank everything I’m anything but alone.
Amber Williams
@MsSublimeLuv
A Haunting
Mental illness
Has haunted
My entire existence
It is a spirit
That I can
Only tame
Yet never
Rid myself of
It has possessed
My mother
And father
They have
Succumbed
To its
Frights
And now
They self medicate
With religion
Or drugs
I choose the
Psychoactive ones
Perscribed by
A doctor's hand
One of my best
Friends
Got lost
In a haunted house
And has yet
To find his way out
I fear it will
Swallow my
Nephew whole
For he is next
In line
In my experience
The only way
To live with
Ghosts
Is to study
Them
Understand
What sets
Them off
Pay attention
To what
You're doing
When they become
Still, quiet
These apparitions
Chose you
As a home
For a divine
Purpose
Be grateful
Love them
Be kind
Don't envision
It a haunting
Know
You are
Gifted
One day
I will have
Gained
More wisdom
One day
This will
Be a new
Poem
I will
Call it
A Blessing
-SublimeLuv