My Tribute To You

I am not tragically colored.

I'm proud to be the granddaughter of a slave.

Nude in the boldness of my womanhood,

Knowing that this world called on me to be their Zora.

I set the tone, so time can't f*ck with me.

Emptying my words in breathless efforts.

I am a poet.

Call me Eb,

or 13's 26.

Like my sidekick,

Kneaded and weaved in exclusive talent.

And "it's exciting to hold the center of the national stage,

with spectators not knowing whether to laugh or weep from the pieces I speak."

Did I mention she's a poet.

Dreaded in Harlem locks,

with split tongues that spit like whips or wisdom.

We have all been colored by her Kimberley 13 taylor-made ways.

I didn't get to finish last night. I assume that my pause made B think I was done, but I wasn't. It's cool, its still publicly known how I feel in this and in Cocky Poet. Plus, it doesn't rhyme ; ) Auntie Kim, thanks for being the friend that you are, the Aunt you've become and the mentor I expected. Thank you for the extra pushes and for helping me to want the beast to come free (lol). I've always loved poetry and I've always loved to perform, but you helped me take extra steps in wanting to be greater than I thought. As a host you gave me confidence to get on the mike because of your words that introduced me to the crowd. Whether hot or cold, I have learned from you and I hope you have learned from me. Thank you for being exactly who you are. Hearts curve to you.

Always your,

26