Archive for January, 2010


Posted: January 8, 2010 in Uncategorized

i wanted to write something
and i felt uninspired
so i decided to see what other women were writing to me
expecting something affirming
something new
something sweet

but everything intended to help me with boredom
with lack of inspiration
with spiritual emptiness
with financial security
with fulfilling relationships with lover and relative and friend

called me a bitch.

i thought being called a bitch was a turn-off
or an insult
or demeaned us and caused all our
gotdamned problems in the first gotdamned place
or some shit
i don’t even know

but i don’t want to be a bitch
i really don’t
sometimes people just bring it out of me
but it’s not my title or my name
nor is it my state of being

when i knit
or cook
or maintain my curvaceous figure
or get dressed
or walk
or budget
or dance
or smile
or sex someone up
or dress someone down

i am not a stitching bitch
frying bitch
fierce bitch
skinny bitch
striding bitch
grooving bitch
grinning bitch
fucking bitch
or motherfucking bitch

i’m sick of people telling me
wanting to be at my best and
learning to love something i’m good at
makes me the bitch of the moment

when can i evolve and just be a
regular woman with brown skin
brown hair brown eyes brown voice
brown knitted brows and brown soulful
girlhood dancing in me?


“Nikki-Rosa” | Nikki Giovanni

Posted: January 8, 2010 in Uncategorized
Tags: ,

childhood remembrances are always a drag
if you’re Black
you always remember things like living in Woodlawn
with no inside toilet
and if you become famous or something
they never talk about how happy you were to have
your mother
all to yourself and
how good the water felt when you got your bath
from one of those
big tubs that folk in chicago barbecue in
and somehow when you talk about home
it never gets across how much you
understood their feelings
as the whole family attended meetings about Hollydale
and even though you remember
your biographers never understand
your father’s pain as he sells his stock
and another dream goes
And though you’re poor it isn’t poverty that
concerns you
and though they fought a lot
it isn’t your father’s drinking that makes any difference
but only that everybody is together and you
and your sister have happy birthdays and very good
and I really hope no white person ever has cause
to write about me
because they never understand
Black love is Black wealth and they’ll
probably talk about my hard childhood
and never understand that
all the while I was quite happy