My Ode To Black Women...

  We didn’t come up rich but surely we must be. Rich at heart and mind, as surely we must see. Mutual plight festering in the air. Each other’s burden, ours both to bear. Undeterred by lessons deliberately mistaught. Cut from different sections of one beautifully ragged cloth.   Muted Distance By DEIJOHN ELLIOT BROWN

Titles, labels, and unrealized potential. Everybody’s looking for more of nothing. Save for her, and me, that is. We are no better despite perhaps knowing a little better. I am not her “savior.” She is not my “lifeline.” Separate and apart from each other, we are whole. We aim to complement, not to complete. We are bonded when my free spirit gets wind of her wandering soul. My Mind. + Her Strength. = Our Element. 12:59 by Deijohn E. Brown

Her Eyes Perseverance Heart Strength At a mere glance into the windows of her soul, the aforementioned was undeniably evident. The Allure   Beautifully pain-entrenched, brown Highness. Unable to relate to what she’s endured, integrity won’t be compromised. No slighting false sense of understanding will be offered.     Marveling at what flawlessly imperfect a gem the pressures of her struggle have cultivated is what transpires instead, naturally. Greatness Respect Honor Majesty Whether acknowledged or not, her ascension is inevitable.