Nik Nicholson's Blog, page 17

Touring St Louis Missouri

I took a tour of St. Louis, Missouri, Saturday May 9, 2015. ��I’ve never actually toured a city I lived in. ��I use to live in Vegas, and on a lot of occasions friends came in to town to see shows I hadn’t seen. ��I usually wasn’t interested but that doesn’t mean the shows weren’t great. ��There was always something going on in Vegas. ��I did go to Lakemead and Hoover Dam. ��I felt like I had a good grasp on the history.

St. Louis is ��a city I know very little about. ��For the tour I expected to go to the Arch. ��Maybe they would talk about the history of commerce along the Mississippi. As a writer, I’ve fallen in love with St. Louis’ library system.I am in the library a few times a month. ��I also go to programs there or just go there to write in a different space. ��Plus, the libraries here are over a hundred years old.

Then there all these people from here: Josephine Baker, Tina Turner, Scott Joplin, Cedric The Entertainer, Dick Gregory, Maya Angelou and so on. ��I expected to possibly go to historical sites related to people who put St. Louis on the map.

The tour was very different. ��We went to see all the black neighborhoods that were leveled for “development.” ��We looked at one black community leveled for the expansion of the airport recently. ��We went to the memorial of a child killed in the middle of the city, walking distances from Wash U, by wild dogs as he was playing on a play ground in a park. ��We toured towns that were poor remnants of what they use to be. ��We discussed “medical deserts.” ��We discussed how the life expectancy in some areas were less than that of Bangladesh. ��While a few miles away people lived 20 years longer.

I am still, processing so much information. ��I feel that even in trying to write this blog and just get it off my chest there are so many layers I couldn’t grasp it all. ��I’ve learned about systematic racism and experienced some facets of it. ��However, to see all ways Missouri and St. Louis has consistently destroyed black communities is not only heart breaking and eye opening… It’s hard to believe it’s still happening as I write. ��As I am writing this blog a city called Kinloch has Stop signs and paved roads in what looks like a forest because the homes have been destroyed. ��All the people have moved away… There are no businesses unless you want to count churches. ��One of the churches gave their last service last Sunday.

The question is what do we do? There is so much going on in the world where do we get into the ocean? Do we affect the tide?

Filed under: random, Research, Spiritual/ Religious

Beautiful Words to Describe Darkskin

Dark Skinned Woman 1 Her skin isn’t chocolate. Maybe midnight. The way the light hits her skin, she is obsidian in the flesh.

Over the past few evenings, I’ve been using this writing group of about 20K writers to help me reach resolutions as I’m editing. ��Yes, this group is as amazing as it sounds. ��I was thanking God that I’d found them. ��So when I started to write a scene with a dark skinned woman, I wanted to use an uncommon beautiful description. ��As a result, I went to my favorite group and asked, what are some beautiful things I can use to describe dark skin.

Initially, the writers used all the words I could imagine. ��Chocolate, cinnamon, mocha, ebony, coffee and so on.

Then a white women posted, “POC hate being described with food.”

A male POC, said he refers to himself as caramel and is giving me permission to refer to all people of color by food. Which I accepted laughing and in good spirits.

The white woman actually went to war with him, saying that he can’t give permission for all people of color.

Of course he can, he shot back, because he’s arrogant like that…

I thought the conversation was funny, until another white woman came on the post and said just say they are dark skinned and move on. ��Then followed that comment with, skin color couldn’t be that important to the plot and then questioned my ability to write.

At this point I’m frustrated and kind of lost. ��One, I don’t understand how a request for other descriptive words becomes all these long diatribes from white ��people on how to treat black people. ��Especially since I’m a black person.

Second, someone has of course and which I always expect in a group this large… said I can use steaming excrement or shit to describe the person. ��It’s so expected it goes almost unnoticed. I must admit I’m a little sad that someone thought it was ok to describe someones skin as such… when I specifically asked for beautiful things and words. ��I think it’s racist. But he goes on commenting on the rest of the discussion as if he isn’t racist.

This woman is considered dark skinned but she is not as dark as the first woman. I want to express the differences.

Some how I began defending my need to discuss color. ��I am then asked by one of the white women, because my profile picture is a poem not a photo, if I’m black? ��I mean, now they are all posed to call me a white racist for wanting to describe a dark skinned person beautifully.

In the process, I am being thrown websites. ��If White Characters Were Described Like People of Color In Literature

I thought the link was funny, but also irrelevant. ��Showing me how it’s bad to describe white people as food to validate not describing black people’s skin tones is like… advising me to eat the seeds out of an apple the way I would a pomegranate. �� Yeah, they are both fruit… and most apples are red.. But there are green apples, yellow apples and candy apples. ��You couldn’t candy an entire pomegranate… I guess you could, but it’d be nasty.

My point is, because white skin is the standard of beauty more options to describe it exist. ��When I go look for make-up, the make-up marketed towards black women is: almond, roasted almond, deep caramel, honey, golden honey… while the make-up pitched at white women is tan, nude, tawny, beige, deep beige. ��I mean, nude is not the color of my skin naked. ��My point being… What is my point? ��That I simply asked for writers to give me some uncommon descriptive words to describe dark skin and then had to defend why I even needed to mention skin.

Dark Skinned Woman 3

Oh, and then people started to go into how skin isn’t important. ��How it isn’t necessary to discuss what hue a person is. ��For some reason, I feel like writing characters without descriptions is a form of erasing difference. ��I think difference is beautiful. ��I think people are beautiful in all the ways they are. ��I don’t think pretending or writing everyone as invisible and minimizing each other’s features makes for better writing. ��I also think it’s privilege not to understand how skin tone affects POC. ��I think it is privilege not to know about colorism. ��I also think it’s ignorance that would say, race and color doesn’t matter as we march, protest and riot as black people are killed. ��Black lives matter wouldn’t even be a slogan if skin didn’t matter.

Someone said, you shouldn’t mention skin if it doesn’t have anything to do with your plot. If you are a POC in America your skin is how the plot thickens. ��Whether you are rich and driving in your own neighborhood, the police pull you over because to them your skin says you don’t belong. ��If you are in a crowded store, the clerk watches you because to them your skin tells them you are most likely to steal. ��When you are articulate, accomplished and confident people are amazed. ��Because they think people with your skin shouldn’t be able to speak proper English or know the things you know. ��Sometimes people are offended, intimidated and afraid when you are intelligent because they expect you to bow, shuck and jive because of your skin. ��When you go in for a job they will offer you less money and be put off if you ask for what you deserve. ��They may even not hire you, because your skin tells them you are not worth what they would pay your white counter part. ��Race and skin color are still very much an issue. ��I’m annoyed that so many people wanted to argue it wasn’t and that I should write omitting skin.

Dark Skinned Woman 4

I needed to get all this off my chest. I don’t have any anecdotes. ��I am really upset how uninformed people are. More importantly, how arrogant and sure they can be ��in their lack of wisdom. ��I always have higher expectations for other writers and artists in general. ��I always felt writing and regularly being creative is such a spiritual thing it requires you to be more mindful. ��I expect us as artist to sit with our stuff more. ��I was really hurt, I guess by the responses. ��I mean, I was insulted and attacked for not wanting to be invisible. ��Can you imagine, someone telling you it is not important to see yourself in your own work? ��It’s just crazy.

I did receive some really great descriptive words and a website I’m going to explore after I post this blog.

Writing with Color

Love and Light

PS: Oh and if there were some errors, spelling or otherwise, I treat this blog as my journal. ��I am not critical of how it is I express whatever is on my heart.

Filed under: random, Research, Self Reflection Tagged: black female writer, black history, Black Women, daughter of zion, frustrations of being a writer, nik nicholson, plotting, writer life

4/30/2015

Warrior.

War.

She was.

Destructive

Rebuilding

Hurting

Healing.

Afraid

Brave

Believing

Seeking

Dreaming

Being

Willing to fight for freedom

Still defining its meaning

She’d hurt me

to free me.

“Cum for me, baby”

She conjures

Escaping

Between my thighs

In pleas and sighs

Bracing

To ride

My flesh

If I can’t drive

Myself.

Penetrating.

My spirit

Speaks her name

In other realms.

Warrior.

War.

She was.

Always

Wearing armor

Armed Sage

Charming

Willing to engage

Disarming me

In our exchange.

She sincerely came

For me.

Seductive.

Protecting me

From her own destruction

Unless I requested that she fuck me

Then she’d sculpture me

With the shards of her heart.

Make me her god

Then bare witness

Worship is kismet

Challenging life’s hopelessness

With the light of death’s openness

Blessing emptiness

With securer bridges

To evolve.

Pledging our loyalty

Committed to evolving

Pleasant is suffering

Pain is royalty’s

Payment for wisdom.

Love as religion

Scripture says forgiveness

We cum together

On an alter of intuition

Prayed for

Meditated on

Faithfully

Saving

Saviors

Passion

Crucifixion

We kill ourselves

To love how we envisioned.

Filed under: Free-write, NationalPoetryMonth2015, Poem, Poetry, Self Reflection, Uncategorized Tagged: #BlackPoet, #BlackWoman, #NaPoWriMo, #nationalpoetrymonth, artistnik, black female writer, nik nicholson

Work Field Trip 4/27/2015

Today was an amazing day. I am trying to blog about my entire life experience, not just the writing moments. ��Not just the moments when I’m confused or frustrated… Or trying to force myself to show up at the page, when I don’t have any confidence… or idea what I’m going to say.

I work with a lot of different kinds of artists: film makers, painters, creators of documentaries, instrumentalist, photographers, music producers, writers, travelers, actors, singers, comedians, dancers, teachers…

Today I had an amazing experience. My boss picked a couple of us to go with three artist who created murals at our local Veterans Administration Rehabilitation center. ��I wish I was one of the people who took pictures, so I could share their work. I rolled over to Facebook to see if either of them had posted ��yet but they haven’t. I may come back and update this blog.

What I wanted to say about this experience is, one, I am amazed by all the activities available to Vets. ��Two, I ��met some amazing people. ��Three, it always humbles me to see how much soldiers sacrifice both personally, mentally and physically.

Four, it’s always amazing to see what a strong spirit can over come. I met a lot of Vets with different physical challenges as a result of their service who were actually more active that most people. ��It was beautiful to be in that kind of energy of feeling that nothing was impossible. ��One woman, Rose, who was legally blind and had a spinal injury and in her early 60’s put me to shame. ��She scuba dives, is a marksman, throws the shot-put and does some kind of relay…

All and all, I am grateful for them. ��I was overwhelmed by their humility. ��I love meeting new people. ��I always consider it a blessing when I am inspired. ��Today there were so many inspirational moments. I loved that Fetty, one of the artist took real photos and meshed them all in this large mural. ��Rose was so excited that she was actually in the painting. It’s cool to be eternal as a result of art. ��I loved how excited she was and how humble she was about all of her activities.

The best part of the day, was as we were leaving we got to hug everyone. ��They invited us back to volunteer. ��The days they gave were like next week, but I’d love to go to some of their events and support all the people I just met. ��I’d also love to go fishing with them… I’ve never been fishing.

I’m looking forward to more hang out sessions and helping, and hugging…

Love and Light

Filed under: random, Self Reflection Tagged: black female writer, black writer, blogging, day to day, journaling, writer life

Suheir Hammad – Not Your Erotic, Not Your Exotic on Def Jam Poetry

Not Your Erotic, Not Your Exotic

by: Suheir Hammad

don���t wanna be your exotic

some delicate fragile colorful bird

imprisoned caged

in a land foreign to the stretch of her wings

don���t wanna be your exotic

women everywhere are just like me

some taller darker nicer than me

but like me but just the same

women everywhere carry my nose on their faces

my name on their spirits

don���t wanna

don���t seduce yourself with

my otherness my hair

wasn���t put on top of my head to entice

you into some mysterious black voodoo

the beat of my lashes against each other

ain���t some dark desert beat

it���s just a blink

get over it

don���t wanna be your exotic

your lovin of my beauty ain���t more than

funky fornication plain pink perversion

in fact nasty necrophilia

cause my beauty is dead to you

I am dead to you

not your

harem girl geisha doll banana picker

pom pom girl pum pum shorts coffee maker

town whore belly dancer private dancer

la malinche venus hottentot laundry girl

your immaculate vessel emasculating princess

don���t wanna be

your erotic

not your exotic

Filed under: DefPoetryJam, NapoWrimo2015, NationalPoetryMonth2015, Poem, Poetry Tagged: #female poet, #NaPoWriMo, #nationalpoetrymonth, #SuheirHammad, #WOC, def poetry jam, inspiration, poet, poetry

Suheir Hammad – What I Will

What I Will

by Suheir Hammad

I will not

dance to your war drum.

I will not

lend my soul nor

my bones to your war drum.

I will not dance

to your beating. I know that beat.

It is lifeless. I know

intimately that skin

you are hitting. It

was alive once

hunted stolen

stretched. I will

not dance to your drummed

up war. I will not pop

spin beak for you. I

will not hate for you or

even hate you. I will

not kill for you. Especially

I will not die

for you. I will not mourn

the dead with murder nor

suicide. I will not side

with you nor dance to bombs

because everyone else is

dancing. Everyone can be

wrong. Life is a right not

collateral or casual. I

will not forget where

I come from. I

will craft my own drum. Gather my beloved

near and our chanting

will be dancing. Our

humming will be drumming. I

will not be played. I

will not lend my name

nor my rhythm to your

beat. I will dance

and resist and dance and

persist and dance. This heartbeat is louder than

death. Your war drum ain���t

louder than this breath.

Filed under: DefPoetryJam, NationalPoetryMonth2015, Poem, Poetry Tagged: #DefPoetryJam, #nationalpoetrymonth, #SuheirHammad, poem, poet, poetry

For Women Who Are Difficult To Love by Warsan Shire

you are a horse running alone

and he tries to tame you

compares you to an impossible highway

to a burning house

says you are blinding him

that he could never leave you

forget you

want anything but you

you dizzy him, you are unbearable

every woman before or after you

is doused in your name

you fill his mouth

his teeth ache with memory of taste

his body just a long shadow seeking yours

but you are always too intense

frightening in the way you want him

unashamed and sacrificial

he tells you that no man can live up to the one who

lives in your head

and you tried to change didn���t you?

closed your mouth more

tried to be softer

prettier

less volatile, less awake

but even when sleeping you could feel

him travelling away from you in his dreams

so what did you want to do love

split his head open?

you can���t make homes out of human beings

someone should have already told you that

and if he wants to leave

then let him leave

you are terrifying

and strange and beautiful

something not everyone knows how to love.���

��� Warsan Shire

Filed under: Poetry Tagged: #BlackPoet, #BlackWoman, #CelebratingPoetry, #nationalpoetrymonth, #WarsanShire, inspiration, poetry, Warsan Shire

National Poetry Month

This year I learned about NaPoWriMo��(National Poetry Writing Month).�� Since April is National Poetry Month, a group much like NaNoWriMo��(National Novel Writing Month) encouraged writers to write a poem a day. ��I really enjoyed NaNoWrimo last November. The novel only has to be 50,000 words. ��50K wasn’t enough to finish my novel but I did show up to write more often than I would have without a deadline. ��More importantly, I wrote more than 50K words in a month. So I thought it would be cool to take on another writing challenge.

Sidenote: I’ve also found that writing challenges remind me how much I love writing. ��Challenges that require writing more often change my energy. ��When I’m being creative regularly I am more aware of my power, which makes me feel confident. ��When I’m writing at a normal speed, without a hard deadline, I go from feeling guilty to worthless for not writing or for not liking what I’ve written. ��In other cases, I’m struggling with self doubt. ��I am asking myself if I should be a writer when I look at my plot, or when I see what I make off my work. LOL!

When I took on the NaNoWrimo challenge, to finish 50k words in a month, I didn’t have time to doubt myself. ��I didn’t have time to evaluate every word. ��More often than not, I was trying to make or find time to write. ��Forcing myself to actually write, not think about writing, not consider plots and not reading books on writing and just actually writing streamlined it. ��Not focusing on the plot actually freed me to focus on the plot and ask myself where I needed to go next, instead of looking back at what was already written.

A lot of writers condemned NaNoWrimo, while asking if it was rational to basically vomit a novel in thirty days. ��Yep, it sure is. ��In fact, this might even be the ideal amount of time for some writers. The thing is, if you are a writer you are always plotting and writing in your mind. You wake up and go to sleep with your characters. ��The reason you haven’t finished your book, isn’t because it takes years… You haven’t finished because books don’t stop having sex with you and tell you you’re a bad spouse when you don’t write, like a lover will. ��Unless writing is your full time job, you won’t get fired if you don’t write, while if you are late to work or don’t set and meet deadlines at work you might be fired. ��Books don’t starve like children will if you don’t feed them. ��Your books won’t call or text and set dates with you. ��Your books won’t cry or try to emotionally manipulate you into spending time with them. It’s all the things in between that take books so long to be written. ��Writing challenges give you an opportunity to make something that won’t ask to be prioritized a priority.

Although I am a writer, I also have a full life. ��Unlike all the other things in my life that demand my attention, my novel never does. ��During NaNoWriMo, I put my book as a priority. ��Believe me, I had tons of push back. ��As soon as I said I am going to write, people I hadn’t spoke to since the third decided they wanted to reconnect… And I was able to feel what it was like to put my book first, and essentially my goals and dreams. ��I found that claiming time to write, helped me set writing boundaries which have led to new life boundaries, but that’s another blog. ��So yes, it’s totally possible to write a first draft in a month.

Also, during these challenges I usually have other writer friends going hard in the paint with me. ��I invited all of my published writing friends to join me during NaNoWrimo. ��I chose only published folks because there is any entirely different set of challenges when someone sets out to complete their first book. ��Which I learned, in writing my first book. ��I’d set up a previous challenge based on BIAM method (Book In A Month). ��I set it for two months because honestly, at that time I couldn’t imagine writing a decent book in a single month. ��I was also writing a historical fiction and BIAM did have a 100,000 word count, with the goal being 25,000 words a week. ��I’d already been working on my book regularly and thought it was too high of expectation with working and having a full life.

There were only two or three of us in the group who hadn’t ever finished a book. ��The other unaccomplished writers showed up negative. ��Which I admit, would make me question myself. Also, they showed up to the progress deadlines empty handed and asking for other writers overwhelmed by their own writing goals to help ��or motivate them. ��Which we all did happily, but the other first timers never finished their books. Sidenote; If you step up to any challenge already committed to failing, well, that’s your real goal. ��I include myself in that. ��I didn’t believe two months was long enough to complete my novel and I didn’t complete it in two months. ��Still I showed up and wrote more ferociously than ever before. ��I didn’t complete it by the deadline, but I completed a first draft within two weeks of the deadline.

My friends were excited and supportive of me taking on the NaNoWriMo challenge, but all those who didn’t join me had one question. ��“Will what you write be any good? ��I mean, if you are just writing to meet word count goals, will what you write be valuable or even useful?”

Yep! It sure was. ��Ego has to take a back seat to the characters and plot. ��It’s beautiful to be in that space of listening. ��Sometimes I’d get stumped while writing, but not to the point of ending the writing session. ��Usually sitting quietly and reading what I’ve written will trigger the rest of the scene and/or words. ��I learned to trust myself. ��I’d be lost in the world I was creating… I feel ego and writing without a deadline can anchor you in your own world… so you can’t see the character or their world authentically.

I had such an amazing experience… and I’m still learning my novel writing groove… so all of this could change. ��But right now, I think I’m going to try and get on a schedule to write first drafts in two months. ��If it’s a contemporary novel I might push myself and do a novel in a month, but if it’s something I’ve done a lot of research on, I’m going to give myself a couple months.

Anyway, I don’t want to judge anyone else’s writing process, but I don’t believe it takes a year to write a novel, or even two if you show up to the page every day. ��Also it gets easier to write when you train yourself to be creative once a day.

So having this great experience with NaNoWriMo I decided to do NaPoWriMo. ��Like I always do, I invited my writer friends to join me… I posted on my Facebook, text folks and tagged people. ��Someone wrote on the post, they don’t write poetry by assignment. LOL! Others declined and gave various excuses. ��Mostly they said they had to be spiritually moved. ��If you are trying to be prolific and/or make writing a career you can’t only write when you are moved. ��At least I don’t think so. ��Again, I can’t judge.

Anyway 12 days into this challenge.

After poets started accepting, they wanted to know how we would keep each other honest. ��They wanted to know if there would be a space so they could share their work. ��Finally, they requested that I create a secure space where they could post their poems daily. ��I didn’t expect them to want to post their work. ��Also, I write long hand then type my poems out so I didn’t want to worry about final compositions. ��I didn’t want any extra steps I just wanted to show up to my journal and write…

When I invited them on this writing challenge, I didn’t intend to be online. ��Usually when I’m doing a challenge, I shut down all my social networks and write. ��In fact, I lost my phone on the 4th of this month and didn’t realize it until the 6th.

Still, I created the group. ��I added all the poets who accepted the challenge. ��April 1st, I started getting notifications being the group admin… They were posting poems all through out the day… Which moved my spirit immensely. ��I loved how they cheered each other on, and took time to read each others’ posts. ��Let me also add, many of them I don’t know well so it was beautiful to see so much positive energy.

I wrote but I didn’t post. ��I struggled to write every day. ��The poems I was turning out were so bad I didn’t want to share them. ��Not to mention, I have a love hate relationship with social networking every day, while being present in my life and in my creative space. Some part of me felt responsible for facilitating the group, so I checked in and read tons of poems.

I am still amazed by how talented the poets I know are. ��Every day they’ve been posting these awesome thought provoking poems… Some are writing more than one a day.

One day, I think I didn’t even write. ��So I set a goal for the next day to go to the library when I got off work instead of coming home. ��I wrote most of my first novel in the college library of UNLV. ��So, I hoped magic would strike, again. ��To be honest I don’t love all of my poems.

When I got to the library, I read over some material about the theme I’m focusing these poems on. ��I also had my head phones and listened to Alice Coltrane. ��I didn’t write one poem I loved, I wrote several.

I came home planning to type out the poem I’d decided to share in the group. ��Still in a creative space I wrote something off the top of my head. ��It was sooo liberating and well received. So I’ve been doing that every day.

Now I don’t really have a theme and I don’t know what I will be moved to write. ��I’ve been doing free writes. ��I also like releasing the poem and editing it in real time. ��Poems feel different when you know someone is reading as you write… It feels more urgent.

I am going to play with different kinds of poems this month… I felt today, that the poem begging to be written didn’t need to ever be shared. ��Who knows… I like to examine life, not just my life. ��I think I’ve read some good poetry by other poets that I really loved about their own life. ��There are those common themes: love, belonging, fear, evolving, god… but there are other things I want to explore outside of myself… this revolution going on. ��I’m trying to push myself this month…

Still, typing off the top of my head in real time has been a stretch… I use to feel more connected to my writing when I had a pen or pencil in my hand and I could feel and hear the paper being stained with thoughts. ��Now, I’m learning my hands on this laptop keep up with my thoughts better ��than they do with a pencil.

Sorry, not sorry for this long ramble of thoughts… I just really felt like blogging and sharing this experience.

Filed under: NapoWrimo2015, NationalPoetryMonth2015, Poem, Poetry Tagged: #NaPoWriMo, #nationalpoetrymonth, #poemaday, #writingdaily, a writing life, NanoWrimo, poet, poetry, writer

Locs had me thinking, I was done w/combs and brushes

Folks with locs, did yall already know we are suppose to brush our locs with a very soft wave brush to get out lint before washing our hair? ��Even when I go to the salon I don’t think they’ve done this. I saw it on Youtube, and I don’t own combs or brushes. So I got one, and brushed for not even five minutes. ��There were all these light cotton strands from my hoodie gathering at the ends of my hair, when I was almost done. ��I usually pick any lint I see out, but I couldn’t even see this it was so well blended.

What’s even weirder is, I just washed my hair not even a week ago. ��I decided I’d actually twist it today and wanted to have a fresh wash. ��I also wanted to see if there were some new ways to twist and found out I should be brushing my locs.

You have to go from root to tip so the cotton or whatever our hungry locs have collected will move down the loc. You also have to try and go in the same direction with the brush, or clean it before you start in another direction. ��Otherwise, you are putting the lint back in another place in your head. I think this is crazy that I never knew it.

Over time lint can get crazy, because the fine ones lock in the loc. ��Which is also the reason some people have gray or white locs.

Also, they advised against putting too much oil directly on the loc, because greasy locs attract lint.

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: black hair, Dreadlocks, Dreadlocs, Dreads, Locks, Locs, natural hair, Retwist, Twist

3/22/2015 Freewrite

no one wants to hear

the struggles of a grown black woman;

who raised herself too fast-

for survival

and learned too little

to do no more than exist as an adult.

people would rather hold me accountable for knowing

but they are more forgiving

than i am

impatiently

raising my own grown self,

frustrated and discouraged

considering all the opportunities missed

trying to keep my head up, ears and eyes open

for the next one.

feels like hitchhiking

near a prison

on a rural road.

possible titles:

1. depending on the kindness of strangers

2. from nowhere to here, waiting

Filed under: Free-write, Poem Tagged: black woman, meditation, nik nicholson, poetry, Queen of Non sequitur, writing