Photo by Briona Baker on Unsplash

this anger,
this fear.
this all-consuming heavy atmosphere.

do u also wonder why were we ever placed here?

oh, black woman.
i haven’t been able to feel myself breathe
for the last 4 months and some change.

i haven’t been able to calm my chest
since the minute breonna taylor’s home became a shooting range.

today her murderers walk free,
oh, black woman,
today i’m reminded we have never been free.

for what this world has done to black women,
it deserves to burn.

imagine,
they have the audacity to tell us
justice is something we have to earn.

oh…


Photo by Jeffery Erhunse on Unsplash

this woman dances.

she hops between steps, she
stretches the sky with each breath,

she knows.

eyes trace her up and down the boulevard, cars
whip past, her stature remains steadfast,

this woman fights.

she will walk into oncoming traffic, she
cannot prance without causing a scene,

she
bleeds just as boldly as she breathes.

she
dances to keep her feet grounded.

she
swings her arms to keep from being surrounded.

she
is the epitome
of all things beauty and sacred
and fearful and fearless
and duality and vitality.
she is
naturally
gravity.

h.a wadi 2020.


Photo by JOHN TOWNER on Unsplash

sometimes i wake up with new scars on my body
and i wonder if my demons run just as rampant in the night as they do during the day.

sometimes i shut my eyes after the call of the alarm
hoping Time will forgive me, if this time i decide to stay.

sometimes the cold hardwood floor frightens me.

sometimes i drink my coffee pretending
it’s infused with courage and pride and wings to set me free.

sometimes my hands can’t keep up with my brain.

sometimes my heart beats so fast i swear i feel the rumbling of a…


poetry sunday

Photo by Muhammadtaha Ibrahim Ma’aji on Unsplash

what if our skin was once connected?

what if there was once a time the tips of your fingers
stretched onto mine and the creases of your palm
melded with mine like a puzzle?

what if you and i are two corner pieces of the same picture,
never meant to fit together but made with each other in mind?

what if you were never even mine?

what if somewhere along the way, i skipped over
the shades of brown and neutrals, straight to
the satin white and rose colored sight?

what if love is more than tracing the lines of…


Photo by Vidar Nordli-Mathisen on Unsplash

it’s about balance, this life.

it’s about endings
and beginnings
converging.

it’s about running towards some things
and running away from others.
it’s about understanding.
it’s about feeling.
it’s about living despite what you’re feeling.

tides turn up on my shores and i wonder,
are they warnings or are they blessings?

will the waters bring the life that’s been missing?
or will they only invite the calamity on a path of destroying?

was i meant to stay here?
was i meant to rebuild?
or am i to heed their cautioning and yield?

i’m learning how to listen to the ocean…


you’d think with the rate of procreation, there was no shortage of love back when my parents were starting their family

Photo by SCOTT FLEMING on Unsplash

you’d think with the rate of procreation, there was no shortage of love back when my parents were starting their family.

you’d imagine their wells
were full to the brim, overflowing with blessings and security,
and most of all, love.

you’d imagine they had so much leftover,
they wrapped the extras in deep red stained, handwoven fabrics,
and delivered it door to door to the neighbors.

you’d think with the amount of mouths they fed,
they never even imagined running out.

and i imagine they never planned to.

so maybe it spilled. maybe it seeped through the cracks between their…


A poem

Photo by Hans Vivek on Unsplash

and with that, the candle found its match.

one strike and alive came the light hidden and expelled.

i’d be lying if i told you it was a trick candle.
that you could blow endlessly and its flame would never extinguish.

no, this is just like any other candle.

yes, donned in a lantern with decorative pinholes,
freeing its light to flicker and dance on walls,
reminding it to illuminate the space in which it occupies,
iridescently scintillating on its own and in company,

but still,
a candle.

a candle defenseless to the wind, a candle still in need of…


Photo by David von Diemar on Unsplash

time is like that friend
that does as he pleases.
he doesn’t ask permission nor does he hold back his teases.

he won’t notify you when he goes,
he won’t sit and wait through your lows,
and he will without question contribute to your woes.

time is his own man,
and he will remind you of it.
he’ll hold consistent in his truth,
he won’t accept ruth,
a constant you must learn to covet.

he’s arrogant enough to believe the world revolves around him,
and observant enough to know not everyone will treasure him.

yet he remains.
sure of his place,
cognizant of his space,
aware of his pace.

and though his reminders come as taunts,
he never asked you to fear him.
he’d rather you live freely,
with just enough mind to hear him.

H.A Wadi 2020.

h.a wadi

Through love, there is light. Scientist/Writer/LocalActivist

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