Thursday, September 22, 2016

New Interrupting Racism Workshop: I Own Myself

There's a new Interrupting Racism workshop coming up Sunday, October 2, 2016 at 1pm PST/4pm EST. Ebony Janice of The Free People Project​ and I will be discussing black women's body ownership and providing some language for discussing ways we give and take ownership of ourselves to others. Sensuality, esteem, religion, patriarchy, media... All of these topics will be addressed. We hope that you will join us then and tell a friend. RSVP at

Tuesday, September 6, 2016

That New New!

Hey, boos! I'm hoping this blog finds you well and in your finest new school outfit. I've been busy, procrastinating on school assignments and raising the next generation of magical black girls. I also decided to get my life together and launch a new, fancy ass site. It's actually still a bit of a work in progress, as most life things are. I'll be adding new pages and content as the need arises. Oh, and there will be new product, too! Will it be a book? Butt implants? Who knows? Check back in the coming months and find out!
In the meantime and in-between time, I'm giving away one free copy of Uppity Negress to one lucky new email list subscriber, so tell a friend and if you're not signed up already, make sure you get it poppin'. Sign up on the website between now and Sunday, September 11th  2016 to get a chance to be randomly selected to receive a free book. The winner will be announced on Monday, September 12th 2016. Super simple. 

You're awesome. Take care. Let's chat later.

Monday, June 6, 2016

Because I Wonder What Brock Allen Turner's Dad Would Have Said if His Son Had Eaten Human Flesh for a Mere 20 Minutes

Cannibal Culture

He was hungry
So he ate her
Hey, you know
Boys will be
She said, “No.”
But it was only
One time
She should’ve
Done more to
Fight back
Her hands
Weren’t tied
She said, “No.”
But, she really
Meant, “Yes.”
Plus, it was after
He had already
Rooted his teeth
She left the house
Half dressed
What did she
Expect to happen
With the meatiest
Parts of her body
These cattle
They ought to
Know better
These hens
Never seem
To learn their
You know
These girls
Can’t make up
Their minds
You know
These girls
Can’t manage
Their wants
You know
These men
Have needs
You can’t
Hold his hand
And refuse to
Feed him
You can’t
Have culinary
And then act
All shy
When he
Expects a feast
You went back
To his apartment
What did you think
Would happen?
You sat comfortably
At a set table
You willingly
Went into his kitchen

He was hungry
So he gorged himself
On her fat
Disemboweled her
Consumed contents
Of open cavity
Cupped hands
In shallow pool
Of pulsing wound
Drank until no more thirst
Chewed through muscle
Gnawed on tendons
Until incisors accosted
He video taped it
He took pictures of her
He told his friends
And they told him
That they had
Tasted human
Ex-girl friends
Gone missing
Neighbors and strangers
A pile of rotting remains
Who’s names
They barely remember
They were hungry
So they fed themselves
Hey, you know
Boys will be
Hey, you know
These whores
Cannot be built
Into housewives
You’d better
Burn down the building
And start from
The beginning
You know these
Women weren’t
Raised right
These single mothers
Don’t parent properly
You know these
Young girls
Are bold nowadays
You’ve seen these
10 year olds
Who look 18
How’s he supposed
To know
Who to bite
And who to keep his
Mouth away from
It’s impossible
You’re illogical
Stop being unreasonable
The Bible has you
Like you don’t want
To have your flesh
Torn from your bones
The Qu’ran has you
There’s something
With becoming
Remnants of meat
A man will pick
From between
His teeth
You think
You’re too good
To be consumed
You are stupid
To assume
A man will
Control his urges
It’s your
To keep him
It’s your job
To convince him
You deserve
To keep your skin
Stay sober
In the company
Of male acquaintances
Stay out of the cars
Of men you know
Cover yourself
When you
Are the subject
Of his gaze
Stay out
Of bars
And alleyways
Don’t invite him
Over after the
Neighbors have
Lowered their blinds
Don’t travel
Where there is
No one to watch out
For you
You don’t know
What to do
In these situations
In this big, beasting
In these forests
Little Red,
He will rip the hood
From your head
And your scalp
From your skull
Right along with it
These women
Need to learn
Not to be a tease
Not be loose
Not to be bitches
Not to be rude,
Keep your pretty little
You’d better
When he advances
When he compliments
When he whistles
When he howls
Don’t provoke him
He was born hungry
You know,
Boys will be greedy

©2013 Blakbird Publishing

Friday, June 3, 2016

I'm Actually Gonna Leave My House This Weekend! And Next Week, Too!

I've got the nerve to have things to do this weekend! Apparently, I think I'm grown. You can have the nerve to have some things to do, too! Let's do them together.

On Saturday (that's tomorrow) I'll be reading in the 1:15 pm Poets and Allies set at LitFest Pasadena in the Zona Rosa alley. There will be other amazing poets there as well. If you're in the area, come and see us! Come and say, "Hi". The entire day is FREE and takes place all over the Pasadena Playhouse District. There's even a Octavia Butler  & Afro Futerism presentation at 11 am that sadly I won't be able to go to because my 2 year old has dance class. Bring yourselves out and enjoy!

Also, if you're free on Monday night, I'll be a featured poet at Poets and Allies, which is a reading that also takes place in the lovely city of Pasadena. It starts at 7 pm and is also FREE. It will be taking place at the Sidewalk Cafe which is located at 2057 N. Los Robles, Pasadena CA 91104. I'd love to see your face!

In other, not necessarily poetry related goings ons, you may or may not have heard that Black Lives Matters Activist Jasmine Richards was tried and found guilty of felony lynching. Yeah, you read that right... FELONY LYNCHING. So, here we have a clear case of the criminal justice system being used as a weapon against activists. This is not a new phenomenon, however Jasmine has become the first political prisoner of the Black Lives Matters movement. In an effort to support her and send a clear message to the powers that be regarding the mishandling of the law and false imprisonment of Jasmine Richards, I encourage you to sign this petition and if you're able, attend her sentencing on Tuesday, June 7th in Pasadena (damn, Pasadena is lit!). The hearing will take place at 8 am at 300 E. Walnut Street. The objective is to pack the courthouse.

Also, Tuesday is the Primary, so if you're in California and registered to vote, do yo' thang.

I think that's about it for right now. If I don't see you in the next few days, I certainly hope to in the future. As always, keep up with me on InstagramTwitter and Facebook. If you haven't already gotten your copy of All My Exes Want Me Back, Uppity Negress, or the classic Five Three and Rising, you can fix that situation at Oh, and did you know that you can sign up for my email list? Yeah, shawty! Do the damn thang, right 'chea:

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Alright, be good and take care of yourself!

Thursday, June 2, 2016


I should literally be writing one of like 20 essays that are supposed to go in a book I'm co-writing with my bestie about black feminist theology that's supposed to have the first draft done in about 6 weeks, right now. I have a grand total of no essays done, thus far. I'm halfway done with 2. Yeah, I should be working on that right now. Simultaneously, as I'm typing this my 2 year old is harassing me  into having make-believe conversations with her imaginary friends on an old iPod that she's calling "her phone". She's also making me "take pictures" with her "phone". Oh, now she's combing my hair with a plastic spork. It's all happening over here right now.

I've been meaning to write a blog entry basically all year. I feel like I say this every time I return to this blog. But ya'll don't know my life. I'm currently working 2 jobs and in school full time. I'm is tired. But what I popped in here to say is, "I'm is happy."

The past 33 days have legit been some of the happiest days I've had in years. Nigga, years. And despite the fact that I'm overwhelmed and feel like I've been run over by a train most of the time, I also feel very fulfilled and accomplished. I have about 1,000 things that I'm working on and I hope to be able to share them all here as they're happening in the near future. I've been reconnecting with friends. As I've mentioned, I've been writing. I've been performing again. I'm planning trips. I'm being a boss bitch. It's a wonderful time. When I actually manage to make time to sleep, I sleep well. I'm in good health. There are so many good things on the horizon.

I feel like I've come back to myself. I write all of this to say that if you're feeling not so great, unfulfilled, burdened, and/or lack optimism, there's hope. I think that you can change things and I believe in your ability to do so. It's not magic, though I do have the black girl kind. What it is is making the decision to unburden yourself, advocate for yourself, and perhaps do the complete opposite of what you've done. It's breakthrough time.

Actually, it's bedtime. But I have a school assignment to do. I shall be back to share. Soon, I promise.

Sunday, February 14, 2016

This is My "Valentine's Day" Post

This morning, I watched what I believe to be a neighbor's cat bat a little mouse around my driveway for a strong 30 minutes. The cat, who is a rascal (I've witnessed him pooping in my yard and I've caught him running away from a session of destroying some backyard plants) literally held this poor little mouse hostage. He tossed him up in the air, sat on him, laid on him, stood on him, bit him, and somehow, this mouse was still alive. The mouse would lie motionless for a while and when he likely thought it was his chance to escape, would try to scurry away, only to be pounced on, trampled, and tortured again.

I felt so bad watching it, I almost wanted to go out there and scare the cat away. But then, I figured, it was unlikely the mouse hadn't already sustained life threatening injuries. Plus, it was a mouse... I mean, really, Nikki. So, instead, I just hoped the cat would be merciful and just go ahead and eat the mouse and let it be over with. Because, obviously, the mouse was not going to get out of this alive.
The cat ended up moving the torture session to another part of my driveway that I couldn't see as well and eventually went over to the next door neighbor's lawn, and out of my sight. I think I may have seen him put the mouse in his mouth for a final time and not spit him back out. I'm not entirely sure. I got distracted and had to get on with the rest of my morning.

I thought about the significance of viewing this spectacle on Valentine's Day. I think it pretty much sums up everything quite nicely.
So, yeah.

Hey, so I'm gonna go ahead and release a new chapbook mid March. It's called "All My Exes Want Me Back" and it's about exactly who and what you think it's about. If you'd like to be the proud owner of a copy BEFORE the actual release date (which, by the way, is March 14th), then you can get your preorder on.

Preorder your copy of "All My Exes Want Me Back" at

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

New Year Priorities: 1. Mental, Emotional, and Physical Health

This is something that I don't ever really think about. It is because I consider myself to be very mentally and emotionally healthy, and I'm pretty confident in my physical health as well. I look pretty good and for the most part, I feel good. Of course, we all have our days when the world is heavy, or we're still carrying that grief from that loss, or there's some anxiety or manifestations of stress, for whatever reason. 

I'm a person, not a machine. I'm dealing with things and experiencing a full range of emotion, just like everyone else. That may seem like a statement that merits a "no shit, Sherlock" response, but I think it's important to make that clear. Because, I've created a reputation for myself amongst people that know me well or may not really know much about me at all, that I am, for lack of a better word, a machine. I typically don't show a lot of emotion. For the most part, my shit is always together. I appear to have everything under control and seem unfazed by shenanigans and bullshit. The emotions that I do express are very controlled, never out of hand or volatile. I'm somewhat predictable in that way. Logic rules me. I'm stoic. I inherited that from my Virgo mama and manifest the traits of a Virgo moon. However, I am a person, not a machine.

I remember one time I expressed that my feelings were hurt about something a friend did and their response was, "You're being dramatic." Trust, there was nothing dramatic about how I communicated my disappointment... I simply said, in a very calm and sort of matter of fact way, "Hey, that hurt my feelings." But I realized that, because I, for once, revealed that I have actual feelings, it was a dramatic production. Why? Because, I'd never done that before. It was somewhat out of character. It was "much" and "extra". Had I been someone else, who had had a history of "feels", they wouldn't have batted an eye. That was my doing. I had masked my human-ness with my machine-like nature.

Well, here I am. I feel things, it's true. Everybody, get over it.

I'm actually an empath and I've always been. I can literally, physically feel people's emotions or changes in mood. And I think about others -- like, "How would this make them feel?". I care about people's feelings.

Sometimes I allow my logic to cancel out my own feelings. Actually, most of the time. And then, there are times when my thoughts actually allow me to feel more deeply, especially when it involves another person's pain. I have been overcome with grief, just thinking about someone else -- a complete stranger -- losing someone they love.

The news makes me cry real tears. Racism, sexism, xenophobia, transphobia, and homophobia have physically and emotionally worn me the fuck out. Police brutality and "post racial America" have recast me into a pendulum that swings back and forth between depression and blind rage. I sat at my desk at work, pregnant with Rosie, and cried listening to the George Zimmerman trial. The comments section of online news articles makes me feel homicidal. I'm pretty sure I'm suffering from PTSD.

Sometimes I have to step away from this shit. We all do. But it's hard not to want to expend every drop of energy trying to correct this societal madness. And yet, even if we did wear ourselves down to our bones, our individual efforts alone would not suffice. We have to take turns digging a tunnel out of this prison. You rest while I dig, you dig while I rest, we all take turns and we'll see freedom.

There is this thing called "self care". I don't think I'm so good at it. I work 2 jobs and go to school. I'm typing this at 1:25 am when Lord knows I'm weary. But when else will I get this done? There's literally no time. I have no time for a single thing, much less myself. And when I get too tired, my body gives out.

Somewhere in this year, I need to get a handle on allowing all of the things that I have to do and the beanstalk of a list of things that I want to do that just goes up, up, up into the sky, to come secondary to my overall health. Toxic folk, toxic news, toxic situations, must all be dealt with only when I'm fortified enough to do so and not before. I'm saying, "No," more often than ever, so that's a good first step. I'm being honest about my feelings, even if it makes people uncomfortable, or if it isn't pleasant or if it makes things inconvenient. That's just the hard truth. It is not my intention to hurt or slight anyone. It's just that, I've been entrusted with taking care of me and I think it's important that I do a decent job of it.

So, there's that. Out the gate in a brand new year, my first priority is to put my mental, emotional, and physical health first. I think that if I do that, everything else will fall into place.