An Overgrown Pond




An OverGrown Pond


Where the Koi Jumped for Joy into the sky for the water comes from the sky then returns to the sea

Pistons, electrons, neutrons






By a Picnic Table caught up in sand

Beside a Piano wrapped around a tree

Where I had cracked an egg filled with red ants over his face

Where once I had tried two more times to plant myself on the portico of the place I had lived posthumously

Every day he would come to the drawing room dressed in a new wig and caftan ready to work on his latest illustrated sonata.

His goal ~~ The Chapel where the outline of an over grown cherub with upturned mustaches, a five o’clock shadow, cigar and swollen gonads graced the ceiling


In Her Long Flowing Caftan expectations were high.  Higher than ever before

As she crafted her Caftan Swung to and fro in the Breezes

Swirling & Twirling like a dance in Homage to the Muses and Goddesses of Ancient Times

Swaying Sometimes Billowing Out

Billowing Waving Flapping in Upturned Winds

Powered by gusts of frenetic kinetic energy her billowing Caftan swept over the town and villages spitting out flags, Semi-phores, and coded messages to family cemeteries

Leaving behind satisfied scripts which she added to her burgeoning collection


Sending Signals across the Mesa







Then the Joyful Koi began to play Ragtime 

They jumped up and struck the keys in sequence creating beautiful melodies













Whose Flag?

Whose Flag?


Whose Flag? The flag that ignited the Trail of Tears and condemned my Native American Ancestors far from their Promised Land?

The Flag that ignited Manifest Destiny and stole, robbed, cheated and raped millions of Indigenous peoples to broken treaties, destruction and death.

The Flag that ignited the slave ships of the Middle Passage where my African Ancestors were kidnapped from the Motherland. Denied their heritage. Their religion. Their customs and traditions.  And what of those thrown overboard as so much excess baggage.  Or the others who jumped rather than condemn generations to slavery and Jim Crow.

The Flag that ignited the Dred Scott decision telling us we are only 3/5ths of a man? Where are we in the signing of the Declaration of Independence? Do you see any Native or African Americans in those paintings? Not even any women!  So do we salute a flag, a symbol of colonialism, slavery, Jim Crow and racism? Since we were not included by the Founding Fathers most of whom were slave owners?


Do we honor a flag that forced my parents, grandparents and great-grandparents to get off the sidewalk when white people approached? Get to the back of the bus. Settle for sub-standard schools and housing. Forced sterilization which was done throughout the Southern Bible Belt states.

The flag of Dixie-crat racist Strom Thurmond whose death revealed the Black Daughter he had kept hidden for nearly 70 years?

Read the story of Fanny Lou Hamer one of the Mothers of the Civil Rights Movement.





What of our white Sisters and brothers like Murders of Chaney, Goodman, and Schwerner up to and including Heather Heyer? White Americans who fought evil and lost their lives. Does the flag represent them?

Does this flag represent the two Indian engineers who were murdered or the Chinese doctor who was dragged from his airplane seat?

Did that flag represent the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882.



What of the Japanese Americans who were stripped of all their worldly goods and sent to camps just because they resembled the enemy?  And By the Way who is our enemy?

What of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama–a church with a predominantly black congregation that served as a meeting place for civil rights leaders where  Four young girls were brutally killed.

What of the the nine who were murdered last year in South Carolina during a Bible study by one whom they welcomed as a fellow Christian but who turned out to be a demon.

Tell me again why I should put my hand over my heart or in my case salute since I am a U.S. Army Veteran for this flag. This flag who denied my Korean War Veteran Dad who was in uniform and hungry. Who tried to get a hot dog and the white man said we don’t serve Niggers?

Tell me why this flag and this country whom my Great, Great Grandfather William Henry Halstead who fought in the Civil War still denies it’s promise to me and all his descendants?

Did and was this flag the covering for the slave master who barged into my Great, Great, great, great Grandmother’s slave cabin late at night and forced himself on her?

Did and was this flag the covering and excuse for the Married Redneck Drill Sgt coming to my barracks and calling my name after hours?

Tell me again why we honor this flag and why does this cloth not live up to it’s promise to ALL Americans?









It’s My House & I Live Here

Don’t Come for Me because I’m not afraid to Rock that Orange Jumpsuit!!

You can’t agree with everyone and you won’t but if something upsets you that badly there is always the Unsubscribe, Restrict, Block, UnFriend, or UnFollow options!! Sometimes I do make general observations about what I see on Facebook or Social Media in general but believe me I’m not losing any sleep over what you or anyone else posts. Why? Because I will kick you to the curb in a hot minute before I allow anything to interfere with my ability to eat, sleep or carry on my daily activities. I have and will continue to Delete Off-base Comments at My discretion. Why? Because this is my Blog.

It’s My House & I Live Here! (Apologies to Diana Ross.) Unfortunately I must disable comments on any type of political or racial blog posts because of the haters, flamers & trolls. Not trying to hear asshole bullshit.

There is no reason for arguments and twisted dialogue trying prove me wrong and you right. I’ve noticed over the last six years I usually get a lot of bullshit comments and just plain stupid ass statements when I post something concerning race relations in the United States. Obviously or maybe it isn’t to some narrow minded people my perspective is that of a Black Woman in America. Emphasis on Black.  On that note given what has been going on in the USA over the last few weeks I’ve made some decisions to be part of the solution.

Joined the NAACP

Make small donations to Black Lives Matter. Yes I unashamedly support the Movement. Don’t Like it. Lump it or follow the previous instructions. Close the door on your way out.

I have a thick skin. Keep in mind working in a white environment. Living in a white country if I took to heart every insult, slight, just plain dumbass statement that white people make I would have committed suicide a long time ago. However everyone who knows me that if you step to me I don’t back down from a challenge. Very few people mess with me without experiencing some sort of consequence. I’m peaceful up to a point. My parents did not raise a doormat. Being a Christian does not make me a push-over nor will it silence my voice. It’s not all peace, love and light with me. Get. Over. It.  My circle is small and I keep it that way.

This is My House and I Live Here!!

BTW being Pro-Black does not mean being anti-white. It does mean looking out for your own people in world where any one of us can be executed, exterminated or annihilated at the whim of sadistic police.  Cops who have been given a free pass to do away with an entire race just based on their biased stereotypes. Cops who know that there will be no consequences for their actions. They may get put on some type of administrative leave but they still collect their paychecks while those Black families who lost their Loved ones struggle to bury them, take care of children left behind and must live with a hole in their hearts forever.  My house is on fire so I must take action.

Racism has been real for me my entire life. From the day I was sussed to white school and sat next to a red haired white kid and the first word out of his mouth was nigger to a few years ago when a white co-worker attempted to assault me at the job. Thanks to my U.S. Army training I got the guy off me.

It’s real people. It’s real. That white co-worker after threatening another white co-worker was “allowed” to retire. That means he can come back to the job anytime. That means next time might be my last time.

Will there be a hue and cry from white America if I disappeared from the scene. Honestly. No. Just like on Sunday white people will go to their respective churches. Worship a white Jesus and go on with their lives. After all Black Lives have No Value in America. Stone. Cold. Hard. Honest. Truth.


Black Lives Matter

Kevin Hart INSPIRATIONAL Interview At The Breakfast Club Power 105.1 (6/10/2016)


Baby Boy

He looked like an Angel albeit a broken Angel splayed out on the cold marble floor. His head at angles with his twisted body along with his staring unseeing eyes extinguished any hope that the embers of life still burned within him.  The earth came up to meet him and swallowed him into the heavens.  The Benjamins make a poor parachute.

Cupid shot by his own Arrow.
Cupid shot by his own Arrow.


Baby Boy

Baby Boy Got $200 sneakers as a reward for cussing the teachers and failing in school. Teacher or principals fault. Grades all F but it ain’t me you fucked up can’t you see! School’s for Fools. Some place I don’t want to be.

Baby Boy he never wrong. They got it all mixed up seeing me strong. Y’all know I’m the King of my crew. God’s Gift to everything.

But in the back of your head all you can see is yo’ no count Daddy, welfare system and crackhead Momma staring back in the mirror saying you gonna be like me.

Hanging out in the upper class nabe with my hoodrat crew. See a few things I wanna take. Wait a minute! What’s that I hear! A siren in back of me. Starting to fear. Next thing I’m on Lock down in Juvie Hall. Where my crew at now when as I’m taking this fall.

Baby boy lying in a ditch. Worse off than being a Snitch. Off to Rikers’ to be somebody’s Bitch. Baby Boy. You Done. You Done.


His rhymes had got him to the big time. Opened new doors of upper class vice and sin. The immoralities of the 1%. I gazed at my son from the balcony of one of the greatest art institutions in the city seeing not the young man who had entered the 27 Club of the Immortals but every little boy running up and down Linden Blvd., Jamaica Avenue, Fulton Street or Sedgwick Avenue running to be the next 50 cent or Jay-Z finding fame and winding up on 27 Jump Street misjudging the doubles lives one foot in the hood and the other on Central Park West or the Upper East Side seeking Hipster fame and validation.

Jump my Son/Sun. Jump out of your dreams and into Eternity.

Gallery Sitting

Gallery Sitting at the Museum Union Art Show!

Roaming Urban Gypsy

Gallery Sitting

Yesterday I volunteered as a Gallery Sitter for the Museum Union Art Show located at El Barrio Artspace PS 109, 215 East 99th Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenues.  The show features 90 Artworks by Museum Union Members and continues until March 21st.  I am honored, proud, and elated to be a part of such gifted, talented hardworking group of Union Members.  We Stand United in strength as Union members sharing our creativity with the world.

During the Three  3  hours I was there I took the opportunity to take more photos of the Union Art Show and as I left the building I took photos of the building which used to be a school and is now an artists residence, creative art space with galleries and offices.

Because of the turrets, gargoyles and other architectural elements the building is often described as a Castle.  It was also…

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Snake Mama Blues ~~ Viper Pickings

Splinter Stories from the Hardware Store

Snake Mama Blues — Viper Pickings

“Lureen!! Hey Lurean!! What shenanigans you getting up to in there you old snake necked Gal! Oooohhh! What’s that foul odor I smells. Stinks like turpentine up in here. You painting agin? ArrUrrggha!! What plots be cookin’ and settling inside that old Tureen the Original Snake Mama gave ya?”

Shut up you Itinerant Scalawag! I’m harvesting words, sentences, phrases for the Queen of Books. Her Majesty you know?! Or maybe you don’t know.

“Don’t Know and Don’t wanna know! Put away that concoction and come play Foxy with me.”

“Viper On! Shouted LurAnn!”

Ahh! Come on Lurean Our Chicklings is Grown and we need to make mo’…… Raise up yo’ drab cloak and let me in.

Benjamin You sanctimonious seed of a nun and a monk! Put back your firestick into it’s sheath! There shall be no couplings tonight.

Benjamin could hear the Thukka, Thukka Boom building in his loins and he needed release. He tired of spilling his seed upon bushes and trees inadvertently creating flowering fanged flowers everywhere he spent. At Day break his salty milk mixed with the new born dew as he thrashed and spewed out his rancid dreams.

He wished a sweet comfy covert chamber that would hug his member bringing consolation to his swollen sword.

Out of the Blistering Sundown Heat came a familiar yet unwelcome voice.

“Benjimim! Benjiamim! Is that you a hollering at that stiff necked gal? Who ain’t gonna give you none no matter how hard you beg?”

Emersom Skreech possessed an unkempt bald bobbly head. Walked with a rolling gait of a seasoned sailor unfamiliar with steady land. Skreech was a raggedy Lyle Lovett Look a Like without the deep pompadour.

Townsfolk keep a clear distance away from Em as he was called for his personality reminded one of a gyrating Alien incubating a Succubus.

“Do you Want Me to Cry While I Leave You Alone? I can build up or I can put down. Now which will it be? Beware the Corpse Queen for she’s just a gilded Mummy encrusted with Jewels.



To Be continued……………………