I weep, I scream for the ancestors.  Men and Machines dreg at the sacred sand bar built into an Island. A place to pray.  A place to call on the ancestors. When oil spills, who else can we turn to? Not the army corp of engineers!!! Oh Scared Island where the River turns. Why? Why?! Why! Blow up the Morganza Spillway instead.  Free the river, let it flow.

My gift is that I can’t stop loving you.  It is with love that our bond will strengthen and prosper.  Not just any love, but our love. For our love is unique and ever changing.  Unique is beautiful and we are just that.  We are like two doves soaring high. But there is no limit to how high we can go. Our hopes and dreams can become our reality. We are each other’s hopes and dreams.

It feels like we’re going solo at the world doesn’t it? Marching like ants for the queen. What does she do, but give birth to more drones? Is that all I am? Just a drone? But I have a soul. And maybe an ant does too. But I am capable of marching out of this colony and into the big world. I roam in America solo. Chasing my dreams. That’s most any of us really have. But still we are all solo. We think we can come together on the outside without coming together on the inside. That’s where we all spend most of our time, on the inside.  I dance in Louisiana solo. I know I’m smarter than the things I hear, but still I dance. I know ignorance means me no harm. It is here where my life is connected but I knows there a big, big world out there. I know.  Louisiana lives in the United States solo. It’s full of food, culture, & soul. Just a foot that the rest of the country stands on though. But still I want to be solo like Louisiana because I want to dance. I want to li...

Like a soldier I head out onto the battlefield.  Fighting for justice and equality I stand amongst those who were discarded by the masses.  Our country is filled with corruption and hatred for each other.  Yet, knowing this, I journey out into the battlefield equipped with love and a passion to help those cast aside.  Who will stand with me to speak for those discriminated against? Who will fight for the freedom to be yourself? Who will stand up against the norm as defined by conservative America? Will you?  This battle won’t be fought with an Assault rifle, though many children have bled and died because the conservative norm allows it.  Our weapons are our voice. We must prevail in leading the discussion. For we all bleed the same color and we all want the same for our family and friends.  Today’s American dream is the hope for love, respect, and prosperity.  Let’s all march onto the battlefield and win this battle with love.

a dedication to mental hospitals is it all a game? a game that we play as we weep through the isolation? as we lie in the loneliness as are eyes scream with fear with cries of longing for a helping comforting voice to touch our ears a game a game of smiling accepting the threats accepting the threats of destruction to our hearts we came to mend not to place a bandage over its a game a game we play cause without the game theres no way out theres no way to "recovery" no way to normality no way to what we see as happiness for it does not lie here but in the substantial beings of the mind its there you can't see it no matter what you can't see it because its not there until you see it

I  wake up and realize I am not well. Nor am I happy or comforted . I am only reassured of the misery that accompanies me day by day. That's the beauty in fear, the dreams and promises you make are only to become your worst fears. As I go through the days, my unhappiness is reinforced by broken wishes and unspoken dreams When the day is over, as I look in the mirror I see a face that is familiar A face that is not well not happy or comforted . It is a face that is only reassured of the misery that follows it day by day And upon darkness as the wishful soul vanishes, more unrequinted hopes and fancies are evoked only to be broken by the first light of day.

I am so glad to be locking up those doors To a house of woes, drama, filth, and ingratitude That was the past and I’m ready for a new home As I walk around sweeping up the place Thinking about the pain I no longer have to endure I smile, cheek-to-cheek, that I don’t live here anymore Jiggling my keys and prancing around with my broom, my mic I don’t even need to play into the details to your risky business Your extreme home makeover was just covering up lies So long Yesterday To the man I was and the problems you caused I’m moving on, I sing the story

Rhythms & Visions: "Johnny Note" from Babes In Arms https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zfMfRDIXWU

What are dreams Dreams are nightmares that we allow to surface at dawning of the day Dreams are those fears that inundate our desires Dreams are those little particles of angst that seem to linger way beyond our teenage years Dreams are the unspoken hopes of memories past, that never seem to escape Dreams are the burdens of our parents who issued the weight of the world upon our shoulders Dreams are just nightmares, from the darkest corners of our souls, that we allow ourselves to recognize, if only for the slightest moment of hope.

I love my Mama Because my mama loves our entire family Every step of her life She has been there holding our hands Encouraging us to strengthen our minds To educate ourselves in the spirit of God God blessed us with such a loving woman No matter the occasion My love for her is the grandest of occasions She birthed, principled, & still loves me May she always know how much I love her Happy Birthday, Mother! Love, Louis

I feel a shadow following me. It's like nothing else. People tell me leave Louisiana like the soil is poisoned. Musicians are grown here. Get out. Just go! Rich people's solutions to poor people's problems. I'm honestly afraid for whether or not I'll have a place to stay. I've been on my own for years, but this is different. Like when my grandmother found o ut she had to raise me. My aunt gone, my mother gone. And me, a baby left behind. A third daughter to raise. The constant terror she must have felt living on a fixed income. Still cleaning houses for people who found nothing amusing about me coming with her.

Pulled from the depths of earth or from collective mind. The answered prayer of innocence,  determined gift Devine. Onto a canvas wrought with shame;  sanded, scraped and splattered.  Destined only to crash and burn; determined sacrifice of Sprit, Earth and water. Wet passion in lighting flash;  by only loves design.  To heavens’ height  explode,  shameful canvas and gift Devine. Fires’ wind and calm of rain,  sweat, like oceans waters.  Would, that we could return to spirit, earth and water.

im  in  love with you and  i  know that love is just a word in the void of existence  and that our oblivion is inevitable and that were all doomed to fall into the angel of death’s arms and that one day all our labor will return to its true form dust im  in love with you and  i  know that they will watch me drift into the sun and  i  know you think  im  selfish that  im  a liability to your existence  but know  that  i  am not in love with the feeling of love  but rather your presence in this world and in my arms im  in love with you  and  i’m  sorry sorry that my heart rushes to find yours and that it rapidly longs for your heart but  i  know that your heart is not mended yet and  i  will wait  like a bride at the altar  like a dog at the door like a mother for her son for your heart to be men...

It was wonderful and created an ache in me to see kids with two parents play on sports teams. They got to be in dance and have endless toys.  Sing in shows I only heard about at the last minute.  I saw so much wealth while I had to follow my grandmother,  helping her polish silver and scrub floors . She was unhappy at home but turned on a cigarette stained smile for them. She raised their kids.  Cleaned up after their dogs.   Nursed a dying mother.  We got their leftovers for Christmas and Thanksgiving. I got presents like cassettes and nail polish. Some of them remembered my mother and  told me how exciting my birth  was. It’s so bizarre hearing so much about a woman you only knew for the first 5 years of your life. Would her friends care to know how many times she came into my room sweating, shirtless, mumbling comforting words and scaring the hell out of me?  How I hated waking up in places I hadn’t gone to sleep in? What about the times w...

Sasha Massey Mozart’s “Exultate Jubilate”!

I am just a soul. God, I don’t know much about you, except that I am a part of you. I will never let the world separate us even though it has tried, and is trying. Now, there was a short time we had a miscommunication and Lucifer created a wall between you and me. He sealed me inside hot darkness. I lived in darkness. Hell. There were so many lost souls around. I saw no light ahead. That was until a dark soul asked why I was shining while we stood in line, we always stood in line. But a line started to form behind me suddenly. It was then I realized that you had been shielding me with light. I’ve never really taken the time to truly apologize for the wrong I caused rather I realized it or not. Hell is a messed-up place to be in. I’m not going there. But, you know, God, I’ve never met any harm to anyone. So, instead of letting my regret build-up, I will let my walls come down and I will shout, “I believe in God!” I may not be a role model, but I’m no demon. And Lucifer and I ne...

Each day I sing and perform I count as victory over blatant favoritism and over all a system built to fail us. Something setup to remind us we are other. Wrong. Ugly. So much that we have to fight to learn a history hidden. And love how we are made while everything around us screams change. Straighten your hair. We tan you bleach....She was a warm brown. Blue undertones. I remember her. She sang to me. Her favorite thing was to make me sing along to the Reading Rainbow theme song when I was little. When she was still here. Her absence hangs over me like an overcast sky. Pushing my feet down harder with every step. The coming rain is pressed to my temples and crowding my mind. Making my knees buckle. Crying in the shower where no one can hear me but God. Father. Silent. Always listening. Watching me slam into emotional walls, stand up and covered in new scars. Where is she? Forgiveness is not for them. It is for you. That finally you might stop blaming yoursel...