I started writing a journal in my teens because the authors I was reading at the time told me to. They said it would help with what I had been through and where I wanted to go. I’ve written daily through the majority of my life.
I started writing poetry to get laid. My feeble attempts at poetry lead to comparisons and an introduction to the work of Harry Crosby. The study of Harry’s life and works influenced my own path more than I would like to admit. More examples of gestures toward liberation without footing in justice.
I started freelance writing in the oughts to build my work as a massage practitioner and yoga instructor. I expanded this into my work with justice-centered organizations after starting our family.
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Cringe, everyday I do
Did you figure out why they told you to stay away? That riff on evolution and revolution and a mean plate of food had them swarming the lab back in the day. I volunteered for reeducation, rightly so. I was misinformed and mistaken. Did they say I was crazy, did they say I’ve hurt many? …
Final District Detroit CBA Meeting
Final District Detroit CBA Meeting Public Comment, Eden Bloom The District Detroit Neighborhood Advisory Council (NAC) February 21, 2023 Often times I choose not to make public comment because I find that the Black excellence of those I organize with and the lived experience of Black residents speaks a kind of truth and wisdom that …
Public Comment DBRA on The District Detroit
February 8, 2023 Members of the Detroit Brownfield Redevelopment Authority Board of Directors, I’m a resident of the East Side of the City of Detroit. I am also the father of 3 school aged children. We’re extremely proud that our oldest will be attending … next year. We also have a special needs child …
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It’s 3am
I wake at 3 am everyday. That still sounds extreme and unbelievable to me. But, almost religiously, I have done so daily for nearly 14 years. It is one of the only ways that I survive in this place. Though my oppositional stance towards sleep began very early on in my time here, the practice …
Weaponized Cries
This is not for Tyre, George, or Breonna, this is for you and me. Children of much lesser gods than those of the people who once were held as slaves. Let’s call us non-Black, for that get’s closer to to the fact; no one is white. It is unnerving as it should be. Utterly debilitating …
Just When…
Just when I thought I couldn’t hurt any more, that my loneliness had reached some kind of divine perfection. All at once suddenly finding parts on my supposed heart that were unbroken. And all the old defenses swing into play on the stage; “I just wanted to be alone anyway”, “you should have seen what he did to …
Timefix:001 Halo Burger
Timefix:001 Halo Burger I ate the burger. I’d been a vegetarian for years. He chuckled smugly. I ate the burger and sat there listening to him talk ceaselessly. Hands full, his beard-stroking voice repeated why we always stopped here on these short road trips to Flint. He’d brag about having an affair with a married …
The Silent World of Suffering
I hurt you, I know I hurt you. ‘Sorry’ has replaced the name of god on these silent lips. My silent self, initiated by a prophet, My sacred body, sworn to the laws of the witch, A dagger drawn to the stubble of my neck. Every night I betray these oaths to lay in …
Bhodisattva at the gates of Hell
When writing for the Lab, I used to pause and invite the reader into the space. I’d invite them to take a moment to breathe, stretch and establish a mental distinction between what they had been doing and what they were about to read. I would issue a similar gesture with this piece. The …
On the passage of time and your absence
There isn’t a morning where I don’t wake and think of you, what you are doing, if you are even still alive. It’s a little ritual I do as I remember my place in this space upon waking, like making coffee. I’ve had to learn to live with this. I assume it is the …