I’m Colorful, Not Black

You can call me Colorful,
But you may not call me black.
Black is a word,
Used to describe,
Absence of hue,
Void of light,
No color in you.
A fool.
Black is a word,
Used to describe,
I’m none of those things,
I’m an Empress.
My skin exudes richness.
And my colors,
Shine so bright.
The vibrancy,
And brilliancy,
From my orifice,
May blind you at sight.
I’m colorfully credible,
And eth-nic-cally wealth-ful!
Wait a minute…
I just said a mouth-ful.
In one hundred degree temperatures,
They’re picking cottonwool.
“Welcome to mental slavery”
I just had a flashback.
Drenched in sweat,
With whips on their backs.
I’m sorta mad…
Don’t call me black!
Color is an illusion,
The carbon-in-my-skin,
Is a fact!
I’m colorful,
Not black.

Andrea L’Artiste copyright 2017image.jpegimage


Not All Artists and Poets are Sad!


-Not All Artists and Poets are Sad!-

Let me clear this “Renaissance old” story for you.
Not All Artists and Poets are SAD.
Because my brain works in a way that allows me to create, doesn’t make me miserable or mad.
Because I share with you how I feel,
At a distinct moment,
Or night,
does not encompasses, the totality,
Of my entire life.
Because I,
Think better,
Create better,
Write better,
in solitude,
does not mean I am lonely,
‘always’ alone, or in a bad mood.
My Art and Poems expresses nothing “Sad”.
In fact,
I am more passionate,
and somewhat of a sensualist,
…might I add.
Let’s not forget,
Much of my Art is created for kids.
It’s not possible,
for an unhappy person to do this.
I am revolutionizing,                                      All of these old myths,
…that were told to you.
They’re simply not true!
All Art and Poems are not always Blue.

Andrea L’Artiste

-The Fight-


-The Fight-

In a controlled, conformist world,
you cannot become a public eye success,
if you are:
an attractive,
*highly intelligent,
Colorful woman, altogether.
This is too much power and influence,
Illustrating the ‘sensible’ way.
They will try to stop you at any cost.
You can do it,
Just make sure,
you have on your best boxing gloves,
with the thick leather,
and shoes with a nice grip.
Because, constantly,
you will have to “Stick n move”…and set off a few,
Bruce Lee kicks.
But I am a force to be reckoned with,
and you ‘Are’ going to recognize.
Every word that I speak,
stands BOLDLY,
inside of my eyes.
This is a different era,
I am some ‘other’ breed.
There is not a bone of fear,
Or a vein of fright,
Inside of me.
…I’m not goin’ nowhere.
The fight is goin’ down-out-here!
Bring it.-Andrea L’Artiste 👊🏾 2017

“When you become a threat, You become a target”

Green eyes


-Green eyes-

I did not tell you to quit,

I did not tell you to stop,

I did not say “Don’t think big”
You chose to give in,
You decided to flop.
Profusely pissed,
I hear your disdainful hiss,
As you watch me climb the top.

You’re angry at me because you gave up and I did not.

Like a lava cone
About to disrupt,
The hate makes you ill,
No Will,
to conceal,
The jealous and envy,
that oozes from your gut.

You’re angry at me because “half empty” you left your cup…

And I chose to fill mine up.

-Andrea L’Artiste copyright 2017





The scent he wore,
It smelled like,
A brand new love and that first time.
Like your favorite home-cooked-
fresh off the stove,
with steam,
still rising…
Like a Heavy rain,
on a hot summer night,
As it reshapes into tiny water particles,
to catch a ride,
on an occasional gentle wind,
pushing itself through the window,
and rests,
On the bare body.
His scent was called,
Excite. ~Andrea L’Artiste