On Harriet

27170270-C65B-482F-9D95-C12BDA09205DObservation on Harriet: After seeing @harrietfilm tonight I liked how @kasi_lemmons attempted to portray mama Harriets acalades toward her revolutionary fight to freedom-something I’m most proud. I cried with joy and pride seeing her in action and imagining my ancestors in the same fight. Also, I was pleased with @cynthiaerivo performance being Nigerian west Afrikan born in England. Also, how I kept seeing @the.sleepngiant face in her face—Y’all likely kinfolk sis lol! Cause after all we all Afrikans scattered all over this place. ⁣

Aside, I do wonder how much of the movie was fact and fiction. And despite how good the freedom fight felt I left troubled. Witnessing the brutal killings of two black folks on screen while racist whites were unscathed, spared, and even comforted by the enslaved Afrikans was unsettling to me.⁣

I wish Kasi had gone deeper or made more of a statement that wasn’t necessarily a “safe one” to appease white audiences, but one that warranted vigilante justice in retaliation for such unimaginable horror that the slave owner put her and her family through. It would’ve been REVOLUTIONARY AS PHUCK, for mama Harriet to blow his racist ass away on screen when she had the chance. To me it would’ve showed the duality of her undying love for God along with her undying desire to free our people by any means. Especially since history tells us how she wouldn’t think twice about turning her gun on our own people that got in her way, so killing a racist should’ve required no thought.


#afrikanface #aramentaross #harriet #harriettubman #harriettubmanmovie #freedomfighter #girlrillavintage #givemwlibertyorgivemedeath #kasilemmons #mytwocents #revolutionaryaction


Araminta Ross

Ancestor tones. Anticipating what truth the movie will bring. Rest on mama Harriet! She reminds us, “I grew up like a neglected weed – ignorant of liberty, having no experience of it.” ⁣

And we don’t have to stay disadvantaged. We grew up. 🖤⁣

#afrikanface #ancestors #aramintaross #blackhistoryisworldhistory #blacklivesmatter #blackwomenbelike #freedomfighter #girlrillavintage #givemelibertyorgivemedeath #groundbreaking #harriettubman #iconic #revolutionary #wiseowl #respectyourelders #theeamazinggrace #tubman

This Side of the Moon: A Visit From Sunflower


I’m Sunflowers sista. And he’s my ancestor. Holds space on my alter and in my heart. ⁣

We talk mostly in my dreams. Told him I want to partner with the most loving spirit this side of the moon.⁣

He said, Oh! That spirit. Bitch, they here lol! He told me to open my heart and be patient. I cried and laughed at the same time as he disappeared over that damn ford stream crossing. ❤️🙏🏾⁣


⁣#afrikanface #blacklove #calmcenter #girlrillavintage #healing #iameverythingatonce #iloveyou #imsunflowerssista #manifestlove #mendewoman #mybrotherskeeper #rip #roothealer #sierraleone #sunflower #theeamazinggrace #westafrican

Happy 38th Solar Ascension David

You knew your flame would burn fast that’s why you kept me on my toes and so close to your heart. Happy 38th solar ascension to you David. Trust you’re learning more than everything and receiving all my love out their in the cosmos! ⁣


#afrikanface #alter #ancestors #birthdaycake #brotherlove #girlrillavintage #imsunflowerssista #leoseason #mendepeople #mybrotherskeeper #restinlove #solarsoon #sunflower #westafrican #westphilly #723

Happy solar soon: My sunflower-David Berry

To the person I love most in the universe. My brave side. Leo with the biggest Lion heart. Cheers to words, memories and a failed chocolate cake just for you! You would be reaching 38 young blood. 10 yrs. Damn! How time feels. Rest on little brother…


#afrikanface #alter #ancestors #birthdaycake #brotherlove #girlrillavintage #imsunflowerssista #leoseason #mendepeople #mybrotherskeeper #restinlove #solarsoon #sunflower #westafrican #westphilly #723

Still I Can Smell the Cesspool

Ancestors, we are winning despite how things may appear or feel. That our disappointments must be the source of our inspiration. That our lives are not defined by the problems we face.⁣


Still I can smell the cesspool. All this really stinks. Thick air. Children in cages. Women groomed as little girls to never tell. Holding her brothers box of ashes with bare hands. White folk moving into the only hoods our black skin ever touched. ⁣

⁣No time. No space for us to grasp or grip or grieve, yet we breathe, we hold you in high regard. Always. We know your truth leads our way. Rest in love and light to all those that have surrendered their breath. Thank you for this bit of peace you left behind. ⁣


⁣#afrikanface #ancestorsspeak #ancestorssongs #girlrillavintage #mendewoman #mercuryretrograde #moondaymeditation #peace #pms #roothealer #selfiecorner #sierraleone #tbm #theeamazinggrace #westafrican #worldview

I’m Sunflowers Sista By TheeAmazingGrace


Imagine pullin’ into an empty parking space 

and totalin’ your car

Well das Me… 

Wrecked. Totaled. 

This elephant, remembers everything in its room. 

Feels more like I been beaten. Mercilessly., 

Wit’ wooden bats. By vengeful 

spirits from my ancestors past lives. 

I’m aging. 

So my bones done become more rigid. 

I fracture more easily. 

Bruise more easily. 

Tears well up. 

I cry out more easily. 

Smells. Sounds. Buck toothed smiles. Flamboyant death drops. 

All ignite my senses. 

And my soul becomes clean when I cry. 

‘Cause crying is one of my healing rituals. 

Yet, ain’t no healing this shit. 

I’m exactly where my brother left me. 

On that uncommonly, cold, November 26th, dark street. 

Had just spent all day working,  

only to get home to cook food for a tortured friend. 

Dished out larger slices of homemade sweet potato pie. 

How bitter the taste.

I remember, as we sipped apple cider along side it. 


How bout the scene was loose with change. 


Fresh newspapers strewn about the floor. 

I can still smell the dead trees, 

the moment they told me my baby brother had died. 


Ran ALL out of myself. 

Slid cross the floor on coupon adds. 

Jumpin’ out of my skin wasn’t far enough 

to get away from this. 

The silence was so DAMN loud. 

Louder than my screams and desperate PLEASE. 


And the silence played tricks. 

The silence was so heartless. 

The silence acted like a fuck boy. 

And wailing. 

Wailing that hard only made my nose bleed. 

Snot, mixed with blood m, and tears, froze to my face. 

The mood was below 20 degrees. 

No comfort. No crab legs. No fried wings. 

No whisky. No heating pads. No yams. No deep dick. 

No coochie grinds. No meditation. No cunnilingus. 

No flailing arm dances. No deep talks. No nothing. 

Not even self-soothing. No selfies. No usies.  

No god. No nothing could prepare me for losing my brother. 


My baby brother.

Second born. 

My sunflower. 

Smile as big as a sunflower. 

And he loved to eat the seeds. 

And I love him beyond forever. 

Sunflowers senseless loss of life. 

Bullet to head while he sat in the

comfort of his own bed. 

And I remember the blood on his pillow. 

And how I clinched it. 

And tho’ he’s right here. 

And won’t leave from right here. 

I still feel pain right here. 

Hard to breathe sometimes. 

Replaying his last words 

as he looked to the edge of his bed, “Mama.” “Mama?“

Thank you mama, for waiting. 

And tastin’ his ashes pushed me to the edge of space. 

Made us feel close again. 

And I don’t wish for time y’all. 

I wish for the world to love as hard as we loved 

with no healthy examples of how to love.  

How our love language STRETCHED. 

IS etched into my skin, over deep contusions LEFT BEHIND.

Embedded beneath my bare breast bone, on the left side. 

How I cant tell our scars apart or our sleepless melodies. 

However, the wind grows me just a little, each day. 

My big sunshine face, travels in the wind. 

My Phoenix arose from the dust. 

My baby brother flows in my DNA. 

He is in the water too. 

Mama Oshun. Bless baby brother with your rivers honey. 

Mama Yemayah. Please nestle us both, in the safety of your oceans back bone. 

Thank you for your sanctity. 

For being a home. 



I’m Sunflowers Sista shareable audio with music by The Nest Collective’s Walk to Tawaret. Thank you for listening.