Monday, July 28, 2014

When Will Black Men Stand Up For Our Black Women?

(This was originally a conversation on my twitter page. See here for a link to the posts.)


So...I have a blog in my heart I need to get out. The topic is how we as black men support our black women.


So when it comes to standing up for/beside/behind black men, women step up to the plate every time.Black men? We don't. And that makes me ashamed man. Why can't we be better about that? We have to be. 

Frankly, as black men we all should be ashamed at the collective effort to support our black women.You know how rough they have it? They are black AND women. Double whammy. Twitter is a perfect microcosm of what goes on in the real world. Black men stand by while our black women are drug through the mud. And I know this is a highly debated topic, but patriarchy is a big cause if this.

We've got to be better, myself included. It starts with standing up for our black women against other black men. So many black men are conditioned to mistreat black women to the point they are conditioned to accept it. Sad state of affairs.
It's...depressing.

Yet our black women are there right behind us...supporting us nonetheless. Take care of home. Black women are home. And we are leaving that house to fend for itself. I've spent so much time looking and analyzing...shaking my head and observing. I've pushed and supported the black women in MY life. I can and should be doing more.

Black women are out here putting their neck on the line in support of us. We may not be the ones cutting them off, but we damn sure sharpen the tool. And who is holding black men accountable? No one. When we should be self-policing. We outchea just standing by. When has that ever created change?!

Just...be better. And encourage other black women around you to be better. If enough of us start supporting our black women, standing up for our black women, it'll become contagious. There are not enough black men out here standing up. Black women do it all the time and it seems to fall on deaf ears. Maybe if more black men talk about it the message will come across.

As always...black women, you all are so damn wonderful. Know that.
Y'all be easy.









Symphony #844



My body duets to yours, whispering from behind...
"I got you. Let me take you for this ride..."
as I pleasure what's mine. 
Pleasing you is what I crave. 
Your body convex, mine concave. 
Your hands reaching for nothing...
and everything with each heavy breath
Like a conductor guiding music. 
Your moans sing to me sweet simple lyrics....
"Yes..."
"Right there baby..."
"Shit..."
"I missed this..."
While my strokes sing along.
Your thighs join in on the chorus...
singing in a violent vibrato
As I conduct our orgasmic symphony. 
Sighs like the string section...
My strokes hitting hard like timpanis...
How did we get here? Your body called me to hear it's concerto. 
Moans on a rhythmic crescendo...
Falsettos in accelerando. 
A cappellas and accentato...
You'd rather go adagietto but baby this is my stroke show.
Strumming like a cello, rub it real slow
Strum the right notes leave your thighs like jello...
You say, "If you need an instrument you can play me"
I'll play you baby...making sure to get the right notes fingered carefully...
As our bodies create an orgasmic...
Symphony 844.

(With contributions from @NakedDiary and @BeutfulStranger)

Monday, July 14, 2014

New Beginnings...

We always joke that life comes at you fast, and as I have traversed through my twenties, I've realized just how true that is. As I approach my 30th birthday, I've been trying to make some major changes in my life. I'm all about new beginnings this year.



A big part of that new beginning, as some of you have already seen, was cutting my hair. Last night, I cut my 99 locs off. It was ... hard. Harder than I thought it'd be. It's always said, "I am not my hair," but when it comes down to it, your hair is indeed a part of you. It's part of your identity, your image, and how people remember you. 

I had been growing my hair for almost five years. I started in the fall of 2009, and locing my hair since Spring of 2010. Four years. It was definitely a journey. For anyone who has loc'd their hair, you develop a relationship with them. They get on your nerves, don't always act right, but you love them nonetheless. It takes so much patience and love to cultivate healthy and beautiful locs. And this was my second relationship with them.

For those that know me personally and follow me on Twitter, I've been thinking about cutting my hair for months now. I finally decided that it was time. I've always heard that hair holds energy, both positive and negatively. I firmly believe that. And it's interesting because since I cut them last night, I feel lighter. Lighter both literally and figuratively. It's...interesting. I feel relieved. New. Good. 




So this is me, anew. Big ass head and all. Ready for new beginnings. A fresh start. And I'm SO looking forward to it! 

30? I'll see you September 29, and we're gonna make it a good one. 


Be easy.