Cornbread n Jazz in Elkhart, Indiana.

I had the amazing opportunity to not only attend the Cornbread n Jazz this past weekend but also got a chance to participate as a spoken word artist there at the Historic Roosevelt Center in Elkhart, Indiana.

Familiar with the venue having been there two months ago directing and performing in the 3rd annual Michiana Monologues, I pretty much thought I knew what to expect: a little bit of poetry and singing…cool!  I am always up for an open mic.  For the most part, I was right but what I didn’t expect was a short play, the wide array vendors showcasing their talent, and the smell of black-eyed peas and cornbread!

Yes, some people sang, some people recited poetry, they even cracked a few jokes.  Some people just shared their ministry or mission of visiting Haiti.  Others celebrated their victory from illness.  Then there were just some people who came to watch.

Cornbread n Jazz is rich in culture.  Most importantly it is rich with talent and well-organized;  not just on stage but behind the scenes as well.  As I would like to mention names, I do not think it would be fair simply because I understand how many people it takes to organize a successful show.  So I say “Bravo” to everyone involved with planning and organizing Cornbread n Jazz this past weekend.  I look forward to the next one!

Join Cornbread n Jazz on Facebook!  http://www.facebook.com/pages/Cornbread-n-Jazz/122296798584

The Inheritance of Tears

Today, I cried.
And only my spirit knows why.
As words can not articulate your prayers to God,
So the prayer of tears provides the sufficiency of all your mind has to say.
Your body provides the vessel where your prayers are displayed.
God puts our tears in a vessel and cherishes every one.
He accepted every tear that represents generations of wounded hearts,
lost minds, and even broken bodies.
The frustration of not being seen an equal.
Not being able to stand up for yourself, less risk a noose, or getting burned to the stake.
Your life is at stake.
And now you feel like less of a man.
Granddest of fathers, I understand.
How you took your frustrations out in your home of dirt floors.
It’s like, she’s your wife–but not really yours.
The Master’s whore.
His whip. Your scorn, she bore.
Those emotions with attitude, you left as an inheritance.
I don’t know why God chose to play the interference. With me.
My mind is set free.
But generations of tears still live inside me.
They came out today.
Because finally, they’re free.

Clinton Gets In Where She Can Fit In!

Politically speaking,

I don’t agree with this higher being they call the president

for it is evident that

Clinton

is trying to get in

where she fit in!

Now, I’m not mad at my lady.

Cause she’s just working undercover,

for us sistahs and brothas

Others get salty.

Emotions of hate mixed with envy.

When they see anything

running the scene

that isn’t white.

That’s right.

I said white.

Because if it isn’t the color of white bobbi sox,

They’re ready to knock us out the box,

which gives me the incentive to blow up the spot.

As a young, black women eagerly

waiting for everyone to get off their level of depression

Before our younger generation catches the virus of oppression.

Then they will have won.

See, it’s not about getting done

wrong.

Everybody sings that same song.

It’s because I’m black.

It’s because I’m a woman.

It’s because I’m a black woman.

It’s because I’m black.

It’s because I’m a man.

It’s because I’m a white woman.

The truth it may be.

How can we succeed,

if we keep blaming

what’s between our

buttocks or

If our skin is light or dark?

Stay strong.

For that won’t matter for long.

Remember King when I say

“Can’t we all just get along?”