Featured Writer for January

Wilfreda Edward is one of my favorite writers on Medium. She left for a little over two years and is now back with a vengeance. Upon her return, she reached out to me to become a writer for A Cornered Gurl and of course, I was ecstatic to add her. She is starting off this year right by being the featured writer for the month. The piece below is what landed her this spotlight:



Run-on-rage

Inspired by this meme.

The scale is tipped the shoulder chipped when they storm through only to disrespect their President elect with whitened skins the media screams protests but we march in peace to say our piece and they use this excuse to draw their guns they ignore truth and their constitution yet they throw gas to make our tears run while they rage and they corrupt and they bigot but they call ours a riot!



Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.

Covered

Photo by Andrey Bond via Unsplash

Winter’s kiss is fatal — 
she brings with her a
wrath of unbearable cold
or maybe it’s bearable
and I’ve just grown thin-skinned
in my older age?

I sit in my favorite chair
and watch snow fall
to the ground, fluffy
chunks of purification
sing in harmony.
Music fills my ears.

I scratch my dog
and relish her satisfied
sighs as she
snuggles in closer to me — 
her whiskers brush my hands.

We sit still, peaceful in
the warmth of our home
thankful to have this roof
over our heads;
a covering of life’s
many blessings bestowed
bountifully.

People text. They call.
They want to know if
I’m enduring winter
as best as I can and I
tell them, “I’m fine” or
“We’re good” and I just want
to be done with answering
questions that are neverending
or fill me with grief.

I try to pull myself
out of the frequent funk
that wriggles in unannounced
and sets up shop
deep within my flesh.

I prefer the luring aspect
of smelling and feeling
clean.

I remind myself of
the gratitude that lives
on my tongue, how anxious
I often am to acknowledge it,
I will not forget where
I could be versus where
I am.

Covered in the gift
of love and its divine presence,
the sadness I swim in
isn’t promised to drown me
only wash and purify me
as white as the snow
sticking to the ground.

This is what I tell myself.
This is what I have to believe.


Originally published in Other Doors via Medium.

Force: The Reckoning


For Marley K


An Audio Poem

Black people need more voices
willing to shout at the darkness
of every sky moving in to
silence us without our knowledge.

We should rally around those
who spit-shine their A-Game and
ready themselves for battle — 
Queens and Kings walking on
coal, tipped a mere 10% for
their undying efforts.

One such woman uses her gift
of gab to stab many who have
offended us in the front because
to do so in their backs would
be an act of cowardice.

She is bold and unrelenting,
she has goals that surpass whatever
you think you can dream up,
and she’s unafraid to clap back.

Think you’re cold enough to
waltz in a ring with her when
the topics of racism, social injustice,
and racial divide are on the table?
I’d love to see you try your hand
at pulling up a seat. 
I’m betting you. will. lose.

It’s this way for her because
she loves her people.
She goes to war for her people.
She will die for her people.
Draped in every day armor
because the South is a constant
battlefield, this life will
never end — black people cannot
escape it.

Freeing ourselves is an 
ongoing agenda with nonstop
weekly itineraries to keep
us safe.
They say we aren’t shackled
but they’re still holding
the chains.

She sees it and calls it out.
For her, covering up
who you really are,
only makes coming after you
easier.


Marley K. is like the passionate Auntie you know not to cross but who will go to war for you if she has to. And when you come for her, you better be ready. Originally published at Medium.