Feeling Bloggy? betty's daughter is!

1.

the grain of your voice rubbed against vinyl is prayer

is a ridge (like a ridge in your bottom lip) where i oil up and tan

cause blackness is just a beginning   and the edge is where i jump to life

 2.

you say    i am the offspring of an obsolete machine

so  i guess me'shell   i ain't got nothing to prove     me standing here in all my black woman self    all dripping with spirit and legacy and rips that healed and ripped and healed   and warm hands   say i aint got nothing to prove

3.

you say     capitalism is the new religion of the masses

so  i guess me'shell   jesus gotta come back and set this shit straight  cause we need a shift to let our people go        we need a movement we can breathe through   

4.

you say    perchance blindness is but dark thought overcome by the light

and the light is a burgeoning entity that sends eyelashes to the tops of cheeks   it shocks the back of the throat as it rolls up the spine   it doubletimes doubletimed breath  my sweet jesus  my jesus i heard that you could save me   light travels the blood to the ankles and freezes    freezes the walk the thought and the pulse     

5.

the star beneath your eye is a mantra    is an unforgotten sutra   an all night orgasm

like this     audible memoir speaking all voices  but just yours an evangalestic waltz in the higher chakras    metronomic sonic swosh  the star beneath your eye is     a space where marriage can be savior  and a whore a whore a whoreawhoreawhoreawhore

never  got to open her p*s(y   

6.

post script

a black girl      soon to swirl around in her mamas belly     writes me'shell a love note   and places it in her mamas dreams   she does not know other girl babies  are writing too  together the me'shell love notes make a b.i.b.l.e.                   read it as a sonogram of your destiny      

7.

post script script

thank you for teaching me that obama and hillary aint as fly as shirley (chilsom that is)    and that my skin is written in a rich musical register     and that tears open a space for self-construction  and that a bass guitar can ask a question as loud as a protest   and thatthewomanistheonlyavenueofdeliverance  and that harriet (tubman that is) was wise to walk her children to canada

                                                       truly delivered,

                                                                 ebony

8.

in your silence you ask    how can i be a guided missile   meticulous in my craft a reserve of seeping energy   a seducer of liberation  a bringer of light     a choir of hearts clapping hallelujahs in warm air