With the launch anniversary of EverythingShaquana coming up in two days, I am feeling so incredibly reflective and overwhelmed with appreciation. I have come soooo far in the last year! I mean, if you could only know. I look back and wonder, how the heck did I do it?! How did I survive it all?!

Before I get caught up on looking for an answer, I become more in awe of the simple fact that, despite it all, I am in fact, still here. Still breathing. Still crawling, kicking and fighting. I am actually, closer to walking on my own two feet, than ever before! It’s astounding! 

Such feelings of triumph make it only right for me to want to reflect on who I was, while still in the trenches (so to speak). In honor of Black Fridays and Flashback Fridays at EverythingShaquana.com, here is a flashback to National Poetry Writing Month 2014.

In rhythmic accord with today’s love theme, here a poem about Black love. I’ve mentioned a time or two before, the power of love. Even more than that power, is the strength of Black love.

Black love is mystical. Magical. Metaphysical. It is something quite larger than the capacity of our minds alone. In such, here is just one poem speaking to the unique power of Black love. I present to you, ‘Black Love Won’t Fit In No Box.’


Don’t forget, you’re invited to this month of titanium wrapped, diamond soaked, and gold dipped, poetry packed, writing!  

So JOIN me! The challenge is simple: write one poem a day, or more, inspired by whatever comes to your heart or prompts posted by me.

Any brave souls that would like their poem posted on my blog, in celebration of National Poetry Writing Month, can send their poem into me, using the comment form on the JOIN the conversation page. For every day that poems are sent to me, one of the poems I post for the day will be a guest poem. I look forward to sharing the celebration of the music of poetry, with you all.


Black Love Won’t Fit In No Box

Black love won’t fit in no box

Or a circle, triangle, or square

Black love is too incongruent

Quite unsymmetrical, my dear

 

Black love won’t fit in no box

It doesn’t measure in teaspoons of generic

It’s weight too solid

Invisible to the untrained eye, a diminished relic

 

Black love won’t fit in no box

Transfixed in its infinite totality

With its enormous boundaries

Unsung in its enduring actuality

 

Black love won’t fit in no box

Effortlessly entangled in the legacy of struggle

Warped by boundless obstacles

It can’t be contained, rearranged, or smuggled

 

Black love won’t fit in no box

Beauty blackened by mutilated world pics

Edges sawed off by the hate of times lies

Still and so, painfully, aesthetically holistic

 

Oh no,

I tell you

Black love won’t fit in no box

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