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"The Faded Anella Reborn"

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"The Faded Anella Reborn" I. Anella, the dye of blood and birth, poured from the hands of African earth you colored our palms before we knew the meaning of red. Not red like roses. Red like revolution. A deep Red like memory. Brownish Red like the soil that swallowed our names and grew empires on our backs. II. They came with steel-tipped tongues, forked with greed and scripture, branding borders onto our bodies called it map-making, called it salvation, called it progress as if we were standing still. But even then, Anella whispered through the veins of griots and the lullabies of mothers humming futures into infants’ ears. III. Anella faded not gone, just smudged by imperial reign. Whitewashed walls tried to rinse her out with shame, with silence, with colonial ink scrawling “you are not enough” across our history. They thought pigment was power until they saw how deep color runs when it’s soul-born. IV. Anella is a phoenix in silk form— every time they try to bleach her, ...
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Allow me to Introduce myself

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] I am not your stereotype Not the "strong Black woman" trope you lean on, Not the docile damsel you dismiss. My kindness is not submission; It's a deliberate act of rebellion. I will greet you with warmth, But don't mistake my grace for weakness, because grace is given by the strong at heart I will uplift you, But don't think I won't check you, make you see through the third eye in 4D. Come correct, or don't come at all. Periot. I am the symphony of my ancestors' prayers, The manifestation of their wildest dreams, created right under the baobab tree, from the rib of their roots. And make no mistake, I am not here to make you comfortable; I am here to be apologetically me. with a liberated soul who speaks only truth to the darkness from the heart of light So, allow me to reintroduce myself: I am power wrapped in melanin, I am softness fortified by fire, I am the storm you didn't see coming, I am the calm after the storm, I am the revolution. I Am u...
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They Named Her N'game'

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I Am N'gamè  The ancestors named me N'game' From dreams of the Goddess, I unfolded and  was molded into existence.  And all the while my Blackness is political? They write white poems with tongues too tired to wrap around my name as if N’gamé is too much labor for a mouth that recites Neruda with ease. As if my syllables are a disruption instead of a drumbeat. And when I ask them to try, they sigh, call it “difficult, or interesting” as if my name owes them comfort, as if the flow of a poem should not be disturbed by the fullness of me.     From the breath in my lungs to the spelling of my name from how I enter a room to how I leave it without breaking. My skin walks in before my words do. My voice gets questioned before it gets heard. And even in silence, they’ve already judged my presence a protest. See, they told me: Make it easier. Make it lighter. Make it quieter. So I swallowed my roots and let them rename me Kristi. The most polite, palatable...
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I Am the Diaspora

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  "I am the Diaspora" We Are the Seed and the Soil on this earth, first people created to permeated for greatness. I am the echo of drums carved in Congo wood, baptized in Mississippi mud, a bridge between continents and contradictions I am not from one land, but from the scattered stars of many skies. You see me and say “American.” But my soul knows rhythms that never bowed to borders. My skin, a patchwork of ancestry, my tongue, a multiverse of stolen dialects and survival slang. They stole us ripped roots from red soil , dragged kingdoms across Atlantic storms, and tried to turn gods into property, royalty into cargo. But we don’t disappear. We transform. From the cotton fields to corner stoops, from hush harbors to Harvard halls, we carved Blackness into brilliance. We built this country with hands still bleeding from the whips of its blueprint. But not just here Not just North America’s song,  In Brazil , we live in the samba and the ...
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No Trust, Still

  "No Trust, Still" I stepped out. Not in confidence. Not in light. But in defiance. Of everything that told me “People don’t stay.” Of every door slammed in my face by hands that once held mine. I move not because I believe but because I’m tired of standing still in this dead weight silence where hope used to breathe. They say trust is a bridge. But mine was burned. Not by me, but by those who swore they’d never light the match. So now, every voice sounds like smoke. Every smile feels like a setup. And every hand is a trigger for the memory of when I needed someone and they left. This isn’t a poem about healing. Not yet. This is the moment before the scar where the wound is still fresh but I’m still walking. Because something in me still wants to believe. Still wants to see someone and not flinch. Still wants to give without measuring what’s left. Still wants to open without breaking. So I carry this shattered trust like glass in my po...
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You Think You Know

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  “You Think You Know” You walk like certainty, shoulders carrying the weight of all the answers, a man forged in fire, pride and yet also spirit , unshaken, unbothered, untouchable. And yet I see you. Not the mask, not the voice that commands a room, but the silence when no one is looking. You think you know who I am, what I feel, what I need but you’ve only skimmed the surface, only touched the edges of a depth you haven’t dared to drown in. You love with armor on, fight with words instead of presence, and still believe you hold the map to this heart. But I am not a puzzle to be solved by assumption. I am a storm you’ve never stood in, a prayer you’ve never spoken with trembling lips, a truth that doesn’t beg to be understood but burns quietly, waiting to be met. You think you know. But you have no idea. ~ N'game' 🦋
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Poetry is a love letter to the Soul (Pain Sings)

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Poetry is a love letter to the soul scribbled in silence, whispered in storms, where every line is a fingertip tracing the bruises we forgot to name. It’s breath made ink, a mirror that sees beneath skin, where truth and tenderness hold hands and call each other home. Where pain sings when your all alone. N'gamé 🦋
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