MOVIES AND DOCUMENTARIES CONSTANTLY REMIND US WE SHOULD NEVER FORGET
The holocaust. Never forget 9/11, but we’re constantly reminded we should get over slavery??
Why are we made to feel what happened to our ancestors was insignificant? -Natural Notts
Source link-https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=357362241010822&set=a.183602895053425.49010.138553149558400&type=1&theater
As a liberated woman of color in all my activism I say hands down this is femme glitter queen. This look is the epitome of my pussy power and the worth that we set forth. In solidarity this line is for you Riri: “No matter if you wear tight skirts or no skirts at all, phuck lots of people or none at all, don’t be bullied- cause consent is sexy! Wine your pussy in some slow, sensual, gyrating motion saying phuck misogyny, phuck patriarchy, phuck any and all systems of violence oppressing and perpetuating crimes against pussy’s!” (excerpt from pussy riot poem by Gracie Berry). Thank you for living every bit of your gorgeous blackness, boldly, unapologetic-ally, empowering to all women all over the globe.
Hey everyone! It’s here again. the annual Imani African Dance Recital. This is a Family event. All ages can go and all ages will enjoy it. Educational and Entertaining, you will not be disappointed.
Ticket purchase:
here-https://www.vendini.com/ticket-software.html?t=tix&e=bcaff5ecf35373c1fc4ee1b784b81d53
or here-http://www.millersville.edu/muarts/upcoming-events.php
or
At the Millersville ware center, downtown
42 north prince street
you may use your Millersville I.D. for a discount
Bring your entire family. Hope to see you there ❤
More about the event-https://www.facebook.com/events/876825235676936/879377385421721/?notif_t=like
Family friendly and free to the public! Myself and some other fantastic poets and wordsmiths will perform during this insightful evening. Come one! Come all! Friday May 6 @ 6pm Mulberry Art Studio 21 N Mulberry St, Lancaster, PA 17603 (717) 295-1949
More about the event-https://www.facebook.com/events/1438798363045505/
“Racism systematically verifies itself. Anytime the slave can only be free by imitating his master.” -H. Rap Brown
I would totally ride this big wheel!
Lets have a pussy riot, pussy! pussy! pussy! Lets reclaim our pussy’s power follow me! Squat like a frog with legs wide open and repeat after me, ‘our smells are gorgeous’! Our pussy’s are not supposed to smell like flowers or some cheap smelling fragrance gift basket that makes you smile-good. Truth is mine has never and will never smell like that! In fact more like yams, fuzzy with sprouts, sweat dripped, strong like an ox I carry my pussy on my back! Lets crouch in earnest for pussy’s that bleed every month. Heavy belly. Titties, a dangling, tender pouch of nerve’s. Tiny bowling balls stuck to the sides of neurotransmitters inside our skulls. Our bodies feel weak after long weeks and our moods stank and irritable and loose like bowels after red lentils. Clouds looming over sunshine. Face-frowned in a grumpy squeeze. Orange Moon Lined with Red River is near-is here. And on the topic this bloodied, trailing along the way, WHAT DO MEN EXPECT unfertilized, secreted ovum, filtered in darkness to smell LIKE? Frankly, SMELLS more like burned FISH FLESH with no air filter fresh. And menstruation has and agenda all its own, diarrhea, cramps, heavy soaking through every and anything-even on your best sheets or white pants. And men stop with your squeamish, dirty, slut shaming rhetoric when you see blood on the backs of our pants, on the sheets, on towels-get us new ones, or if in public whisper it politely in our ears letting us know-cause they say sharing is caring (we bleed-its natural). And women we MUST NEVER be ashamed of what abysmal anatomy is functioning from between our hips!
Say NO to these systems, auctioning for ownership over our pussy’s, and say YES to remembering the harshness and shame attached to them. Forgive those memories. Nurture your pussy’s back to health. Feel her pulse beating strong. Be gentle with yourself. Place one finger inside, now remove outside, draw in close to your nose, sense, sniff, embrace, taste, tangy, sweet, own it-it is yours! Lets riot in honor of all pussy’s; those assigned at birth, those unassigned, and those ambiguously assigned. And know this- we all possess the same power! And when he shouts obscenity’s like, ‘phuck yall pussys’, or ‘that teams a bunch of pussies’ to his phallic counter parts, remind him that the pussy’s he speaks so harshly against birthed his stank ass! Demand respect for your pussy’s! No matter if you wear tight skirts or no skirts at all, phuck lots of people or none at all, don’t be bullied- cause consent is sexy! Wine your pussy in some slow, sensual, gyrating motion saying phuck misogyny, phuck patriarchy, phuck any and all systems of violence oppressing and perpetuating crimes against pussy’s! Far too long our titties pulled, diseased and prodded, our orgasms plugged like hydrants, our lips bloodied and battered in silence, our smells, our fluids have been, considered unworthy and profane-the very sight of our pussy’s made even us sick. And starting this moment we change that! Let’s straddle thighs and bump into pussy madness! HOW HER PUSSY feels LIBERATES all THE feelings! Pussygasms evokes moans, twerks, screams, and grinds. Stand in pussyOvations from that which is ours. REDEFINE your PUSSY’S POWER however you want-do with your pussy whatever the phuck you want. Stacey Ann Chinn gave us a jump start she said, I’m a dyke that phucks men sometimes and yes-that’s the liberation from redefining I’m talking bout!
And He does not deem control over YOUR PUSSY’S VALUE OR STRENGTH, how yo pussy works, moves, or pleases. Your pussy’s value is in yo hands. Sip libations from pussy fountains. Heal yo self. Feast on pussy cupcakes-eat all you want! Eat cake for dear old Brendas, underpaid and overworked at Amtrak who offends easily from the sight of ‘i love female orgasm buttons’, and when asked, Brenda do you love your own orgasm, she confides in the saddest, NO. In fact in over 50-years I can’t even recall being intimate with my own pussy. Never understood what an orgasm should feel like, look like, smell like, taste like. Her very own orgasm had been lying dormant for so long that she shamed herself and others for this, so long. Let’s riot for her and those alike! Lets lye in art and NEON paint all stretch marks, hills and valleys, black light those hips! Twerk all yo beautiful smells and ass oceans, cellulite into thick musky air, gorgeous-air. OPEN thighs in mirrors to EXAMINE. Behold whats both delicate and strong. Moist from her own finger tips-fists. Turned on by consent. We lye lined in birth blood positions in defense of those clitoris mutilated, lips duct taped, sexually violated, kidnapped, incest, date raped-molly’s slipped in drinks with no consent. Remember that these violent acts are meant to break us, so no this is no peaceful protests. Your dick will be compromised without our consent. And no we will not part step aside for you on the pavement. We have been moved, mistreated, misguided too long-you can move for us! Shutter at our wholeness. Let misogyny wilt away at our very nakedness, vulnerable pussy’s in all conditions from birth to arousal-menstruation to pungent smells after a long day of working single. We are strong, bold, love-spirits, mothers, daughters, sisters, partners, survivors, magicians, victims, sex workers, liberated pussy layers, thick, small, deep, drooped, asymmetrical, mangled, torn, wide, open, spread, closed, tight, hairy, bald, pierced, courageous, damn good. Our pussy’s are feminine on purpose. Our bodies -hair-limbs and breath on purpose. Our pussy’s are real in all its reproductive glory on purpose. Say it loud my pussy is proud! And check any and everyone who opposes yo pussy. -Gracie-Sleepy
Don’t ever let anyone judge you into disgrace. The Judgement I’m thinking of is often linked to entitlement. The since of entitlement one feels over the actions of another and more importantly how those actions differ in their affects on people. We are all not exempt from their intensity or repercussion. People’s actions affect each other directly, indirectly, consciously, subconsciously and so on. There is no way to escape these things. And as a person that reaps the benefit of many privileges from the way I look to my able body I find that my judgments reflect those privileges. When I’m in the process of a judgmental thought, or in the act of judging someone, my heart rate increases and my entire body is filled with a euphoria warmly matching the effects of the narcotic percocet. Each corner of me is inflated with tiny variations of myself, hard and callused over. I distance myself from the intended target. Suddenly, I’m aware of my own privileges and my right to exercise them with a free hand and it sickens me. I’ve deemed them incapable of having any since of self awareness and my ‘remedy’ or ‘cure all’ is telling them what I see fit for them-and this is the biggest disgrace, not them, but I. Judgment in this fashion is harmful. It is not law and and creates opportunistic calamity’s to treat the choices of others as irrelevant or pathological. -Grace
So much lyfe happens at the cafe: And, it’s insulting when they call our locs braids. In my opinion braids are not umbilical cord commitments. A young white girl at my local coffee shop said, I like your braids. I had some before. I said, my hair is not braided, it is loc’ed. Matted growths of hair. An umbilical cord commitment. She said, oh my god what does that mean? It was irritating because she was white, previously had locs and didn’t even know it, and kept asking me many questions. Her lack of depth and totality about what is a natural phenomenon of rooted goodness for my hair made me almost intolerable. Yet, I smiled and indulged her because she didn’t shame me and was respectful, more for the sake of love and understanding though. She said, so I had locs, not braids for a couple of years then? I said, sounds like it. She told me about how she couldn’t hang with them. How she felt tortured and weighted down my them. She shaved them off and got instant relief. She asked my advice on what I thought had happened with the ‘real’ reason she shaved them. I told her that its been my experience from having loc’ed hair that they are more alive than dead (although regarded as dead hair). Locs have energy and feed off of the energy of the body, and the bodies spirit- circumstances. Loc energy is alive and well.
They remind me of a baby in the womb mother process. To me each loc symbolizes an umbilical cord connecting us to the mother and the mother symbolizing (god, the creative, spirit). Just as a baby receives life source, nutrients, health and wellness from umbilical cords. Locs are the conduit between you and ‘the creative’, elevating you in the same fashion. And instead of one umbilical cord there are many (locs). Locs are moody and vibrant, and strong like any other living being. They feel, covet, release, confront damn near everything-and at the same time are protective and loathe when their space is invaded, interrupted, stifled. And just as living beings hearts become heavy by changes in life, so do locs and they will often stop growing, cause sensations in the scalp, forcing one to sever the cords. They demand basic living rights and that is to be acknowledged and respected on their journey. They live and die that way. The bond between the creative is a permanent one, even after locs are shaved from the head. I like to think of this connection as spirit-body, sensory, untouched, highly intuitive love frequencies that can’t always be felt, seen or touched. Locs always, always teach us something. I told her that perhaps her locs existed only to bring her to this moment and this moment alone. Her face was grateful and her words matched. I’m please that her and I stuck it out and talked things through. -Gracie
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