21 April 2010


My mother was made queen as I stood at the foot of the Sahel
and watched her illuminate stars from the center of the earth.
She whispers to the wind that I am worthy...
fashioning my namesake with cello beats and silken arcs of obsidian.
My spirit conforms itself to look upon that which I have been given
and I am remembered to a symphony of silence...kissed blue and then green...
birthed in the embrace of afternoon
and sketched in Tamachek across earth moments and desert sky

-Ryan Forbes Morris

19 April 2010

The Jazz Singer Who Died Sweet Honey

The Righteous Thinker (For Warda)

She spoke beautiful words...
and for the first time I saw the sun!
Inhabiting this new position of freedom...
...awakened, vivid crimson BLUE and breathing...
I say that her heart is my own!
Black woman!
...the righteous thinker
who dreamt beloved, abounding summer
of patriarchy.

-Ryan Forbes Morris