I write about my blackness as a meditative practice. A means of survival and celebration. To bring the foundational elements of myself, up and out, like water from a lawn sprinkler. A blackness that disappears if you try to possess it, one that sits on your window sill like a quizzical sparrow. A blackness that…
Tag: freedom
Being Loved In The Cleansing Light of Blackness
“One can never forget the feeling of being loved by one’s folks, the looks of care and wonder.”
I May Die Dreaming Of Black Freedom
I realize on a deep and cosmic level that I may die dreaming of Black freedom. That will not be fine but I accept all that is, a world that is not safe but can be joyous, the racism, the struggle, and witnessing how so many Whites have remained stuck in honoring White supremacy. Those of…
Hallow Freedom
Within the heart there is a little flame. Some call it desire, while others call it pain. It rushes in and claims a being. Whimpering eyes, freedom is bleeding. And this my wanting, frail and done. Claiming wholeness, one by one. Searching for the smallest things. Wondering how I found these rings. But…
Feeling All Kind of Ways This Morning
I know how cold and warm it is, because I feel it. I know the chill of white supremacy, and the warmth of compassion from those who treasure multicultural people. To live within, without. To watch, remember, and to know the spirit of colonization and to question if living in a colony is all I will…
Brian Ragsdale Writer.com 