Author: Jennifer Bush-Harris

I am female, fiery, and unapologetically Black. I'm in no position to mince words, so I don't. This writing, this craft, is what I delve in, drown in, and seek to master! From that mastering, comes portions of the divine through light and screen or ink and paper. I invite you all on this journey of thought, conversations and other benevolence life has to offer. You can also follow me on Twitter/Instagram (@authorjbharris) and my networking page on Facebook (Jennifer Bush-Harris). Thank you for stopping by and remember to live, love, write and repeat.

30 Days Of Jaye – Final Thoughts

·

This year was freeing.

I think I have been able to become more confident in my own poetic voice, and own that voice!

I am proud of myself and the work I am creating. I am bringing the joy back to my art, and along with that— power.

I no longer fear my pen, and I used to. I used to be afraid of how angry I would sound sometimes — but it’s necessary.

Audre Lorde said that there was purpose to anger! And there is.

There are pieces in this cycle of poetry that are angry, because I was angry.

There are pieces in this cycle that are fun and happy, because I was happy.

There are pieces that are introspective and poignant, because I was thinking at my life so far.

This year, I feel so much lighter than I have in succeeding years. I feel like my feet are under me as an artist, able to stand up to criticism and silence my own inner critic.

I’m maturing as a poet. Growing as an artist. And accepting criticism and compliments.

I finally feel like a poet— I hope that makes sense.

Plus! My first poetry anthology is released May 12, 2024. How amazing if that!

Thank you for going on this journey with me.

JBH

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 30: Love Letter To Lost Work

·

The old texts say

It is appointed unto man

Once l to die

and then the judgment.

what happens to writers

who leave the world

And in the contents therein

with their mouth full.

Their desks full of papers

And pens

And post-its….

Of jump drives, and

Missing chairs,and

Desks never cleaned out.

What happens to the work when the worker is gone?

When that writer

finally drifts away,

and moved to

Avalon or Valhalla

or Nirvana

or wherever it is

writers get to rest.

Our only regret

is that we had

Only one life to write

all the lives in us down.

In the quiet mind

Of the poet,

there is a graveyard

they forgot to write down.

Novels unfinished.

Thoughts and essays

That they never managed

To submit…

calls, answered from editors or fans.

Scripts that never materialized.

Yet it we could leave

One word for those

who endured our lives

as both person

and immortal vessels

filled with language

it would be this:

Remember.

Remember

how we tried to put

everything

into everything

Ran and out of time.

Remember that we loved

As this truly as we could

and our heart was broken

1000 times…

Remember we tried

to put fire into paper

and try not to burn ourselves.

Remember sometimes tears

Became the water you pull from,

In many a well.

We wrote to live.

We wrote to stay.

And for this great cause

Did we not throw

it all away!

if we could leave

But one love letter

What to you will

find in our wake,

Is tried to correct

every mistake.

to bring back those

who were lost

at the cause of war

Or famine

or evil…

to make the good

Loud and present, and

the fear understood.

We tried to put everything right

to organize

so you can fight!

we did our work

so you could do yours too:

because now our time is come

And this is all we have

to give back to you.

Our only regret

Is we had one life

to write everyone else’s

-JBHarris, 4.2024

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 29: When I Am An Ancestor

·

I will be in the everywhere.

When I am

an ancestor,

when the weight of age

and body

are no longer

my trouble over these waters,

I will be in trees

and leaves

and grasses.

I will be thunder and storm.

I will be the truth

that is picked over

during dinners my hands

prepared and in the eyes

of my family,

and those we have heard of me saw me prepare.

I will be in the stares

of grandchildren,

creaking on the stairs

of old houses that

my feet once tread upon.

I will be cloud

and rain,

My truth,

will come from

their mouth

And I will be in dishes

Over glasses and

In the rumbling of laughter —

I will call

And I will be

called an answer.

-JBHarris, 2.12.2024

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 28: Daddy, I’m Okay

·

This will be in the upcoming work dedicated to my father, DADDY, I’M OKAY.

When I’m tired,

my mother tells

me to stop wiping

and holding my face

like my daddy did

when he was tired.

I think that,

even in those

neurons and synapses

That is my father,

reaching from the beyond

into me to let me know

that he still wants

to take care of me.

I want him so bad,

“Daddy, I’m okay.”

I know with you

being so far away,and

you being into the mystery, and

me eight years from

the point from

where your heart beat

For the last time,

I still want to say:

“Daddy, I’m okay.”

I won’t lie and say

There aren’t days

Where I ache for

your voice and

Rely on your grit—

It is impossible not to miss you.

There are days

I struggle to remember

all you were,

all that you are,

and what you meant to me.

In this world of grief and strife

it sometimes makes memory

so hazy,

that I have to struggle

to remember your voice.

I have now crossed

a threshold in this life,

I have been without you

more than I had you.

I understand if God be for me,

I will have more years

in front of me,

and that holds

the unique paradox

that I might forget you.

And yet Daddy, I’m okay.

I’m okay because

for whatever reason

you fit to give me

rock —and to speak to it,

to demand

I’m not let go of it!

That you endowed

this pretty Black girl

who is now

a strong Black woman

with enough in her

in 17 summers

to summon

when the storms of life rage!

Daddy, I’m okay.

I’m gonna be okay

until it’s okay

speak okay

Until a way is made!

And Daddy, I’m okay…

You can rest now.

I am reminded

there is no time limit

on how long

A father will

love his daughter—

even from million miles away.

I take solace that even on my dying day,

I’ll still be your babygirl.

Daddy… Immabe OK.

-JBHarris, 4.2024

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 27: Light. Heat. Smoke.

·

He said

My mouth was slick,

And I was always

Poppin my shit!

You think that

Him knowing me

As long as

he knew

Himself would prepare

Him for me to

Always come

Ace High,

No chaser —

Hot.

Smooth.

And…

Thick!

Full-bodied

And smooth

…like he likes

All desirable things

He believes

Belong to him.

He brave enough

To say I, too, belong

To him—

Who am I

To argue when

…he be right?

-JBH, 9.3.2023

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 26: How You Fireproof A Black Girl

·

How to fireproof a Black girl in 10 easy steps:

1.) Believe in yourself when even it seems all is lost. You have more within you than they can ever be a cost. Do not abandon you because you is what you have and you is what you will leave with.

2.) Remember all the mammies are dead. You were never supposed to be one, and everything in you has come from victory.

3.) Peace is where you are, peace is what you deserve, and peace is what you fight for: peace of mind, peace of heart, and never a piece of a man.

4.) You have the right to love, and be loved and be loved who you want. You have the determination in your own self to arrest those who bring you no rest! You have to understand love is what brought you into this world, and it is LOVE that holds this place together, as we float through this universe of countless fascinations!

5.) You have the right to flip all this shit over!

6.) You have the right to feel, to be treasured, to be adored, and never fucked. Unless, that’s what you like.

7.) You have the right to cut your hair. Grow your hair! Dye it! Roll it! Frame it!

Slap it, flip it, and reverse it just like Missy Elliott told us to! You have the right to be and change just when and where you want to! You have the right to wear red nail polish now Black girl! With stiletto tip nails and shoes if you see fit!

8.) You have the right to your story—even to rewrite!—and always give the edits to He has sent you to do a great work.

9.) You belong to you. Your life is a gift, and you are needed here. Don’t die with any dream in you.

10.) You have the right to live your life as big as you want as you want as free as you want and who can stop you but you?

If you get confused, sometimes the matches get too close to go back to step one.

-JBHarris, 4.26.2024

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 25: The Road To Perdition

·

The most contagious lie

on the Internet is

that Black women

are undesirable —

unwanted,

not beautiful,

not trustworthy—

needing to be in our more natural state.

The road to perdition

is always paved

with eyelashes

and weave,

and HR approved hair colors.

It is the steady robbery

of person and self

And the marriage therein

that tells you that

the world can only end

where you begin!

the road to perdition

Is paved with stilettos

that echo hallways

we are not supposed

to be in,

the shunning of

our own selves

from our own selves

into places meant

to be margin.

Our place supposed to be uncomfortable.

Pleasure and purity

Never being ours—

walking these narrow roads

with a few gates, and

even fewer allies, and

no light, and

we were supposed

to just endure that

with smiles in our faces

because Black girls

are made for hard times.

And the only way

to find redemption

among this back door

To Hell’s Jericho Road

is to abandon all hope

of all ye who enter here [the World]

as Dante said,

but at the same time l—

who put us here?

it was Oracle Malcolm,

who told us

who looked like him,

“Who told you to hate yourself?”

and if a Black woman

does not hate herself,

Then,

how can she truly be Black?

But if Blackness holds

everything and

everything is inside Blackness

that means we hold

all power in our very hands!

You see perdition

Was never ours,

It’s was never

ours to be sent,

This road we were

Given is not ours to cement!

It for the cause of those

Who do not know who

They are and will never accept

Who we are

That we continue to forfeit

Our own selves for their selves!

But understand

The key to our CELL,

is never FOR SALE.

The road to Perdition

They say

Is paved with

good intentions.

But at the same time

Heaven is within us

so perdition is never made

for us, and is a holding spot

for those who don’t know

who they are …

besides the darkest trick the devil ever played was to to make the world believe he doesn’t exist, but

Black

women

always

have.

-JBHarris, 4.26.2024

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 24: The Cry of The Free Woman

·

Say Sis-

Did they pick you yet?

Have you now found the courage

To keep trying to out do

Me with whose pussy is better contest?

Have they picked you yet?

You’ve dyed your hair

Gotten the contacts

Gave up contracts

Time

Body and

The most excellent delicate

Whimsical kiss

That Ntozake Shange

Spoke about.

Have they picked you yet?

From all the fighting

On the Internet

From placing your heart

As a useless bet

On countless crap tables

From a man who

Said he would love you forever?

Sis, did he pick you yet?

Did he pick you yet

After all the money you put on his books —

After all the dirty looks —

And from all the right hooks—

Did he pick you yet?

Will your suffering

Finally be enough

To make him come home

Or perhaps—

Raise him from the dead?

Have your eyes

Become so affixed

To the front that

You can’t see what’s

In the back of your head?

Have they picked you yet?

Have they picked you yet

Internet forum

From boardroom

To classroom

Most intimate bedroom talk

To playground,

Have they picked you yet?

The oracle

Nikki Giovanni said

If you find a woman not

full of herself, she’ll be starving,

And clearly you have

Lost both sight and appetite

Feeding on whatever

Is in reach.

Have they picked you yet?

Are your breasts not big enough

The BBL unpaid

Not light enough

Not sweet enough

Did you not make

Him Cum when he

Called enough?

Have they picked you yet?

Us on this side of freedom

Crossing the portion

Of Jordan cannot be affording

The laziness of stopping

Due to your insistence

That you are right

When rail to make

Sure all is not lost.

We will no longer pay this cost!

We are tired of

Having to fight the

World and you too

When you look like me

And I look like me

And I am you.

You see me as problem

To solve,

As the one to save

When truth is

When you try

To bind me to you —

All I have is rage!

All I’m trying to do is live my own life.

It sent to my own self.

With all of myself.

Bringing all of

my selves with me!

The healed versions carrying the wounded versions because my own self is such a treasure.

Did he pick you yet?

Otherwise we will be

In this contest

You blocking the door

Never wanting more

And I refuse to

Stay here with

You forever and a day!

Queens don’t cast

Their crowns to

Neither fools

Nor swine…

Have they picked you yet?

-JBHarris, 4.22.2024

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 23: Suvivorship (or Icarus Had A Widow)

·

Fun fact: the name Zachary is from Zachariah which means the Lord remembers.

Note: This is my first husband’s real first name and I never took his. He is remarried to another woman, has children with her, and makes no attempt to have a relationship with his children. As you read this work, with this backstory, it will make more sense.

The name

The Lord remembers

Corresponds to

The same Icarus

Who left me with

The daughters

Held in body

And heart.

The same one

Who now has

Made his tribe

Complete with the

Sons be craved

So that his line

And its curses

Might not die

With him.

There is no love lost

When the man you loved

No longer exists—

If he ever had.

Tied to you by time

As my ancestors were

The language and land

Foreign because I

Never was supposed

To be here alone.

I swallowed the salt water

For my children to breathe.

To breathe to do

What Doubting Thomas said

To rage, rage against the

Dying of the light!

Pressing –

Swimming –

Towards the Son

With the

These two

Cleaving to me

To make their

Mother a mermaid

to bring them to

Dry land

To make the milk and honey.

My fins are feet and feet are fins

The traversing between

The world given

And the world that is.

And taught my daughters to swim.

Their father is Icarus.

Their mother is Yemoja.

The death he wanted

Was his own —

And he can watch

from the bottom of the sea.

-JBHarris, 4.2024

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 22: Before The Storm Rolls In

·

I don’t know how 42 happened.

That is to say I didn’t think aging

Was what I would do alone.

That is to say the happily ever after

wasn’t meant for me, not like I wanted it to be.

That is to say I am the one who got away, and time marched on anyway,

That is to say the girl I was is the woman I am who takes the little girl who was old when she was young with me —

That is to say the dreaming only got bigger when time became quicker —

That is to say the girl who loved the boy, still waits for him to come back to her…where he belongs.

-JBHarris, 4.14.24