My Father the Teacher

My Dad taught me how to ride a bike
he took us to the park to fly kites
he took us on walks
he worked the night shift to feed us
he was there in my life

My Dad was also an angry man
as Black men living in America must be
because anger at injustice should be expected
but he also did what angry Black men do
he went to church even though he despised it
but even as he hated church
he still took us to church
he was there in my life

My Dad at 79 continues to teach me
even as i now teach him feminism and texting
even as we teach each other forgiveness
even as he continues to teach me
about the history of Black men in America
just as he taught me Black History as a child
he is here in my life.

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the healing came last night

sage on fire
smoking
swirling
washing my rooms
lingering
chasing out demons
welcoming love
healing all spaces
i was tipsy with spirit

heated meet

familiar walk
a well-worn path
in well-traveled dirt
hard packed density
rock hard
summer sun not yet heating
spring cold land
meet me near Litha
with naked feet
and bare oak.

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Stained Glass

It was in a nondescript flat, wooden box in the basement, a leftover from previous tenants now long gone. Or the tenants who came of left before the last couple who lived here. Rosalind couldn’t really tell, nor was she particularly interested in dragging that heavy box upstairs to take to the corner for trash day. Something about the box piqued her curiosity, though, especially the light that seemed to shine through one of the uncovered edges.

It took her an hour to pull and drag the box up the wooden stairs.

After finding a hammer, she flipped it to the prong side and began pulling out the nails, carefully tossing them in a neat pile. The wood seemed old, and gave way to her strength as she pulled out a large, round pane of stained glass. Looking at the wooden walls in the living room and dining room and the square window panes, it occurred to Rosalind that this could not have been installed in the house because it was too big for any house. It belonged to a church, perhaps a church long gone.

As she studied the design and colors, she noted the familiar image of the Virgin Mary and Child, how the pane seemed to capture the sunlight coming into the kitchen as if to store its ray like a solar panel. The room began to fill with a warm glow, and the air was suddenly fragrant with the smell of fresh roses. As Rosalind began to fill with a certain and familiar quiver of her state of “tipsy,” it occurred to her that no church would have commissioned such a work for their sanctuary, for it would not have been deemed acceptable for the masses.

What was once thought to be basement junk was now a center of attention in her living room as found art to outsiders who visited her as it hung on her wall seeming to have its own source of light even as the sun set outside.

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Tonight’s radio show was fabulous!!!!!

Listen to my new episode The Black Church-Practical Theology: Rev Dr Gregory E Thomas at http://tobtr.com/s/3673945. #BlogTalkRadio

Today’s show was fabulously successful and insightful!!!!

Listen to my new episode At the Edge-Dr. Anthea Butler: Religion, Politics, Gender at http://tobtr.com/s/3662867. #BlogTalkRadio

At the Edge-Dr. Anthea Butler: Religion, Politics, Gender 09/10 10 AM EST

At the Edge-Dr. Anthea Butler: Religion, Politics, Gender 09/10 by At the Edge An Afrofuturist Salon | Blog Talk Radio.

Don’t forget to catch our show tomorrow morning for a special interview with Dr. Anthea Butler who will be talking about religion, politics, and gender–as well as the 2012 National elections.  This will be a great show, so don’t miss it!