I’m On Ten-Thousand
I’m here to restore the natural order
what you know
is only what was recorded
the voice that matters
is the one silenced
the base is XX
and like Vivacious said
during her Drag Race entrance,
Mother has arrived
In one episode the queens kept shouting beast!
and the main challenge is HERstory
the mother is found
the cell’s powerhouse
the twisted ladder shape of DNA–
The biggest well-known statues in the world
are Jesus, Buddha and a warrior woman
the evolution of flight came all of a sudden
blackbirds in poems–
close to light posts and electrical wires,
a flock of crows–
out in the streets, they call it murder
I see them, countless, clutching the wires,
in front of the church, it’s close to Christmas,
a red light lights the crucifix,
it looks like the blood of Christ
is it a sign of the end
You can tell we share the same ancestors
by how we’re arranged–
One bone, two bones, many bones
I wanted to die last week
When I think about killing myself
it involves either me jumping off a bridge
or hanging myself
And I see myself swinging
then think about those slaves
who jumped off the ships
and the people hung for no reason
Mary and Jesus never went to church
They went to where people were suffering
The frontlines of the battle
We love the ‘hood
and fight alongside
the Soka Gakkai Buddha
From Wisdom of the Lotus Sutra:
perfect perception means
even the groans of those in hell are wondrous
You will listen,
You will hear me now
We’re all not that different from Jonestown
I watch beautiful black children making their ideal lives online
as white Barbie-like images
sipping champagne in mansions
Replace Kool-Aid with fill-in-the-blank
I helped Tre pick out some books
and explained The Matrix and some Poetry,
I felt radiation from his body
like the nukes that Trump is trying to increase
We talked about the news headline,
and when I tell Tre that I feel his heat waves,
he says so Trump wants more of me
A common word used to describe black girls
that have skin that absorbs the sunlight
One boy had on a black shirt
that said shine bright
We are the starburst,
galaxies swirled into action,
dust into mountains,
and vapor into oceans
I dwell in the bottom but to respond I rise
On the 8 key is a star
It takes 8 minutes
for the light of the Sun
to reach the Earth
There’s a sunrise with rays
etched in the wood
beneath my window
in our hearts
as we emerge to awaken others
Sensei wrote Justice and Shared Struggle
Don’t tell me to subdue my angry black woman
What do you suppose happened to the wrath
suppressed in each whiplash?
In order it to exist,
in order for you to be a legend,
its all on the wax–the freestyle is how you wow a crowd,
but the wax is how you become immortal
Nam-myoho-renge-kyo is the secret name
that Lilith and Isis used to beat the gods
In this era of greed, anger and foolishness,
I’m on ten thousand
Mary Magdalene ain’t on a potato chip,
or a glass in Clearwater–
she is eternal,
like you are–
The sphinx was carved
from a single huge rock in the desert
And deserts were once oceans
The Dragon King’s Daughter dwelt at the bottom
Sensei says Even places that have been shrouded
in darkness for billions of years can be illuminated
Even a stone from the bottom of a river
can be used to produce fire
hell hath no fury
than the breath of a dragon
And a wise man
lets the woman have the last word
This man you worship,
on the crucifix,
bronzed in sitting contemplation,
was sometimes an asshole
So I bring down the Jesus with outstretched arms,
I bring down all the Buddha statues,
I bring down the Vatican
did you know Jesus owes back-child support?
Badder than the wolf,
I blow down pyramids
Inhale fossil fuel, and the pump
resets to all eights
one scientist says:
life has gotten to the point where it can tell its story
one astronomist says:
there are stars and areas of the galaxy
that contain information on how it formed,
the rosetta stone
from National Geographic:
Large areas of Africa
are prime diamond territory.
Intense heat and pressure
transformed basic carbon
into dazzling gems
I text words from Sensei
to a friend:
Century of Africa,
Century of Women
I request my birth certificate.
My mom mails me the copies
inside a folder that says
In Recognition of Your Achievement.
to be born?
I ask the search engine
why can’t energy be destroyed?
and read what’s generated.
I text my friend:
Giving birth is a painful process.
And we’re about to birth a new era.
we are the ordered pair
on the grid
after we first got physical
he said I don’t see the point
in regard to having sex with other women
I watch a documentary
Fractals: Form, Chance and Dimension.
designs in nature
works of Hokusai, the Japanese print-maker
the narrator says,
it takes endless repetition,
the pattern keep repeating
art is actually
really close to mathematics,
they’re just using different language
the golden ratio
of good and evil
6 represents the Devil,
8 represents the Buddha
the Mystic Law
the word algebra is Arabic
for reuniting broken parts
And as I fall asleep
what is the point
if we don’t come
On How I Baker-Acted Myself: #6
I get called to speak
with another mental health professional.
I tell her about what brought me here:
seeing into past lives,
being the wife of the Buddha and Christ,
and that he and I have a telepathic connection.
She asks if the voices and visions
are ever validated.
I say, about 80%.
Like the time I was in his apartment
and suddenly I really wanted some gum
and in the middle of showering,
he sticks his head out and asks,
did you want some gum?
And the time I imagined him drip honey on me
and the next night he plays “Slow like Honey”
and grins, I wonder what made me play this.
She says what we have
sounds like what twins experience–
I say, yes, exactly.
finishes her notes
and sends me back into the lobby.
On How I Baker-Acted Myself: #16
There is a young rapper
with a face like a cherub.
He had slit his wrists so much
that a layer of skin
had grown like armor.
He and the Stormtrooper
had to sleep in green plastic beds
placed in the common area.
They looked like little green plastic
boats made for children.
The Stormtrooper’s was next
to where the staff worked
and people were admitted twenty-four hours.
My roommate pointed out
a handprint on our window streaking down
as if the person in there before us
was screaming let me out.
She and I laughed at a framed
Monet painting in our room
titled “Les Hotels.”
Yuki Jackson, a Black and Japanese poet, is a graduate of the University of Tampa MFA Creative Writing program. She has been featured in several readings and her work has appeared in Foundry, Juked, and Creative Pinellas. Yuki is the founder of The Battleground, an at-risk youth program in Sulphur Springs, Tampa. She also teaches English Composition at Hillsborough Community College and writing at two Elementary Schools through an after-school program with Keep St.Pete Lit. Her writing is inspired by her Soka Gakkai International Buddhist practice, hip-hop lyricism and the art within daily life. She can be found on Facebook and Instagram @yukijacksonpoet.