Black & Kinky Amongst Brown Waves

so sally seems
February 28, 2017, 10:48 pm
Filed under: women

trying to get a post up before the end of this short month where we celebrate black history and presidents and groundhogs…

there have been a series of recent articles on Sally Hemings; this one and this one give some great food for thought. both articles helped to inspire the piece below as i pondered agency and history and memory…  last year I also participated in a wonderful project that used Sally Hemings as the catalyst for art making.  More on that project can be found here and there is a lovely zine that can be purchased through the link.

sending you peace…


so Sally seems…
© 2017 by margaux delotte-bennett

can you be mistress
and property?

possess your sex
when you don’t possess
your life?

can your “relationship”
be elicit
when it sustains
orders your steps
forces knees to part
without consent?

can his-story ever be righted
when written
with blood filled pen across pale skin?

can sin become sacred
when historians
re-imagine the condition
you’re in?

so Sally seems
in distorted dreams…

when the women march
January 23, 2017, 2:25 am
Filed under: DC life, women

’tis the season…
December 24, 2016, 12:31 am
Filed under: relationships, self reflection


i love the holidays…
because we often make time to connect and reconnect with friends & family.  i have had some great friend dates over the last 2 days and i have scheduled more before the coming of the new year. i’m looking forward to the quality time but also the wonderful hugs because i know some people who give great hugs! touch is so vital and for many it can be scarce.  i found this article moving and true.  the article helped to inform this poem that i started about a week ago, but never finished.  it may still be unfinished, but at a place where it can be shared.

getting touchy
(c) 2016 by margaux delotte-bennett
you intuitively touched all the places where I feel shame
my hairy chin
my never flat belly
up my sides and down my back
soft with excess
your hands knew these areas more intimately than I do

dancing to
caressing from
at times making me want to run

I try to see me as you did
feel the me under your fingertips
no longer tense, but supple
no longer wrong, now perfect
no longer hidden in plain sight

it’s with fright that I realize
this shame was studied
well learned
earned from years of gazing upon
photoshopped curves and complexions
imperfections erased

but the fine lines of my stretch marks became your map
as you traced
the path to love without reservation
acceptance without clause

it’s what this body

reminders are always
well placed
well served


p.s. i had a conversation, that led to a poem, that led to this visual collaboration with a friend.  i meant to share it before, but there is no time like the present! -MDB


responding to this election…
November 21, 2016, 8:31 pm
Filed under: DC life, media, performance

on November 9th i felt like i woke up in a new country…

but not because so much had changed. in this ‘new country’ a man who in no way represents my interests will now be my face out in the world. madness.

i started this poem a day before the election and in the wake of the results a call to artists was made by Quique Avilez, one of my poetry godfathers.  on Sunday there was a community showcase of music and poetry by artists and activists at GALA Hispanic Theatre.  it was an honor to share the stage with my dear friend Ruth Young as we offered some Postcards from Trumplandia in the form of poetry, a list of no longer improbable things (2016 edition) and two short plays. a performance is a great motivator to finish a piece.  enjoy.


what the pundits won’t tell you
© 2016 by margaux delotte-bennett

election day ballots are not the proper place for dreams
the paper and screens
already contain what is and what is possible
the options for this day
pining for those not there
will not make them appear
or make those that are there
go away

dreams dwell in the streets
in heartbeats
eyes wild and wide
jaws jabbering jive
it is what it is and yeah

new visions reside
down halls of justice
inhabited by who the ballots decide
blackened circles saying yes it is your time

but I still have a say in how and who represents me
my interests
my vision
my rights and responsibilities

when I don’t like what is
I make it known
with my feet, my voice, my pen, a stone
a poem reminding me that
elections have never been
where it all goes down

but what is that sounds?

it is a troubling wind kicked up and surrounding
these foreboding times

there is a precipice on which we stand

some have already decided
to throw up their hands
but we must remember to



it’s what these times demand


Reunited and it feels so good!
Me, Walker/ Wally and Ruth in the lobby of GALA Hispanic Theatre.


in troubled times…
July 12, 2016, 9:52 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

we are required to make things of beauty

notice what remains

give thanks for the ability to be grateful

as mama Toni explains in this wonderful article from last year, “no place for self pity, no room for fear”,  she writes, “There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.”

so let’s heal. together.

model/ yogini: Jasiri Nkalati
photographer: Jalaa’a, Rsinbow Tree Brinsley 


untitled #071216
© 2016 by margaux delotte-bennett

I lay before you
weary of this life
a life you left behind
but planned for
in your tired
and in your hunger

I can’t bow any further under the weight of things
I can’t stoop any lower beneath the gaze
and in my can nots
I know that I must
because you already did

my skin is the promise you left me
the very link from then to now
a birth mark
marked by my birth
in this time
at this place

I see your face
as I search my own
conscious, but unknown
pleading for a home
I never knew
because it grew from
within your whispered prayers
beneath your bended knee

I lie here
ready to follow your lead
I am your hope’s

today my black is…
July 7, 2016, 4:12 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

i cried at my desk today, because of facebook, because of this world…

i wrote this poem.

I called my mum and shared it.  she said i needed to add the part about rising from the ashes.  more tears fell as i told her, “not today. not this poem…”

here are some other poems that may provide some solace today and beyond:

live and walk and work and be love. it is essential.


my black is…
© 2016 my margaux delotte-bennett

today my black is black
and blue
it’s black and bruised
it’s crying
tears so old
they have turned to dust

today my black wonders when
it became routine to be
beaten back
shot down
shut up
strangled by pride
being whipped away and taxed

today my black backtracks
tries to remember
when this country
didn’t smell like a slaughter house
look like one too
when hands were not covered crimson
gripping riches
always grabbing more

today my black is sore
fed up with this constant ache
and fight
nothing left in the ashes
to get fired up about

today my black just wants to pout
sit with the heaviness
of knowing
that my black is being

on this 4th day of July
July 4, 2016, 3:13 pm
Filed under: love, music

i’m unpacking many thoughts on this 4th day of July. there is terror and suffering in so many corners of this city, nation, globe… we can and must do better as a human family. there is only this moment and we need to act now.

2016-06-16 21.36.17

hearts beat on
© 2016 by margaux delotte-bennett

they have started
the tears for Orlando
the tears for myself

all week they has been under the surface
pulsating through veins
weary of having to pen
another mass shooting poem

tears for the girl
whose first serious boyfriend was bisexual
years before she knew
that identity defined her
as well

tears for nights spent sweating my prayers
in living rooms
community centers
clubs, big & small
in America
South Africa
El Salvador

looking around at the rainbow
seeing my full self reflected
& celebrated
having crushes that transcended gender
& orientation
learning about femininity from drag queens
seeing nurturing & tenderness in gay men’s embrace
finally understanding
why lesbian & loyalty
start with the same letter

these days
I’m more sexual than merely bi
but the alphabet soup of the queer community
is home
is hearth & hunger
is homage & healing

this world is not safe for too many that I cherish
including myself
we have to demand changes that will ensure
all of our survival

our outrage is justified
& our silence
has never
protected us

since we still have a pulse
love & grit
there is work that we desperately
need to do



2016-06-16 21.35.56


this song has been haunting me all week… just wanted to take a moment to share its majesty with you. it’s perfect for the complicated nature/ narrative of “freedom” in these united states:

“America” by Prince & The Revolution


Aristocrats on a mountain climb
Making money, losing time
Communism is just a word
But if the government turn over
It’ll be the only word that’s heard

America, America
God shed his grace on thee
America, America
Keep the children free

Little sister making minimum wage
Living in a 1-room jungle-monkey cage
Can’t get over, she’s almost dead
She may not be in the black
But she’s happy she ain’t in the red

America, America
God shed his grace on thee
America, America
Keep the children free


Jimmy Nothing never went 2 school
They made him pledge allegiance
He said it wasn’t cool
Nothing made Jimmy proud
Now Jimmy lives on a mushroom cloud

America, America
God shed his grace on thee
America, America
Keep the children free

America, America
God shed his grace on thee
America, America
Keep the children free


Boom, boom, boom, boom
The bomb go
Boom, boom, boom, boom
The bomb go boom.
Teacher, why won’t Jimmy pledge allegiance?