Thursday, November 12, 2015


i am not a visitor
this is My home
this space of love
a shelter for which
i am
it is Mine
i own it
born with it
i am not a visitor
 but this home is not always
it is dark
shades drawn in fear
people falling around me
this home has pain
in this skin
there is rage
black rage
in My home
that which you fear
is that which i have become
in My home
in My space
My temple

you bought me here
sold this body
you gave me this black rage
when you violated my space
took me from My home
brought me here
worked me
and when i screamed black rage
tearing myself from your grip
daring to reclaim my home
My space
looking for
My people
My own land
My own language
you hunted me down
beat me into submission
left me on our knees
taught me to pray
and i got trapped
in your gospel
and now you sell me from behind bars
cheap labor
another price for my body
but black rage is not a commodity
it cannot be sold to the highest bidder
you created this rage
you are the birther
now you see me dangerous
regardless of how
i decorate My home
my space
because you never set me free
when you see me
you see My anger
you want to douse that flame because it reminds you
that i may
some day
grow fat with black rage
tear down My own space
because i am afraid to tear down yours
we are not safe
she did not deserve to die
he never fought back
black rage tells me to light the match
my awareness of oppression
tells me to blow it out
for if i don’t
this is my home
My space
i am not a visitor
this is the skin 
i am in
this is my black rage
i have rights in my home
this is my space
My skin
you try to stifle me in my home
but your hidden truths come out
the sore has oozed onto
exploded in our institutions
you cannot spin it in the media
now we use your gift of
black rage
against you

i know this home
this is My space
and i cannot live in darkness
aware of my karma
My humanness
your being
running from end to end
in this space
with black rage in my heart
i am thrown to the floor
i am threatened
pulled from My car
forced down in My classroom
called nigger on college campuses
i cannot breathe
My black rage
in My throat
knocking on the inside of my teeth
holding in my tears
belly tight with aggression
i scream black lives matter
i scream for the children afraid
i scream for church folk dying
in My home
in this body
how can i not be enraged
it is in these still moments
that the ancestors
swoop down from the trees
wrap their arms around me
comforting this home
this body
leading me to the light
they guide me
protect your home they say
face your rage
speak to it
so i call to you
black rage
invite you to stay
for if you leave
i may forget
why you stir
why you hover
in my home
without you
i will not say
hell no
i will not stand
in my black rage
which i have earned the right to have
this is My home
i am not a visitor
i am now the calm
inside the rage

so watch out

this rage is coming for you

Patricia R. Corbett is a MFA student at Goddard College in Plainfield,Vermont, studying Interdisciplinary Arts.She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from Virginia Union University in Richmond, VA. Patricia is a artist, storyteller, professional writer, published author, womanist, educator, and motivational speaker.  She utilizes storytelling, writing, speaking and networking to create paradigm shifts in education, business and the community. Patricia's writing and artwork takes a critical view of social, political and cultural issues through storytelling. She self-identifies as a queer black woman whose projects challenge systemic societal problems, stereotypes, conventional thought/wisdom, religion and values. Patricia's quest is to expose and uplift the stories of marginalized populations while redefining what is aesthetically beautiful.

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What is True Love?

Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.
James Baldwin