lynchings
a real and grisly threat
a public spectacle for whites
killed
the purpose of terrorizing Black communities
authorities covering it up
reason to think otherwise?
Source: John McWhorter, The New York Times, ‘Are Lynchings Really Happening?’, 24 Sept 2026
Three sisters wash up on the beach. Drowned.
But no foul play.
Five black women found by bodies of water. Dead.
But no foul play.
Ninety-five percent of black people have nothing to do with swimming.
But no foul play. Just conditioning and lies.
All bodies of water carry terror. Provoke fear from time.
So we are lead to believe as we are lead away from our sources of freedom.
From our bodily memories of being water folk. From time.
harbouring suspicions
‘modern-day lynchings’
sow terror in black communities
impossible to know what really happened
but local authorities are covering up
often good reason to think
otherwise
Source: John McWhorter, The New York Times, ‘Are Lynchings Really Happening?’, 24 Sept 2026
under the orange moon
they gathered, white hooded
orange flames licked the cross
they say he killed himself
the moment he looked at her
out of interest or just a momentary glance
no matter, he killed himself
the rope cut into his neck
the flames kicked his toes
and so the adventure begins …
People, friends who come through for you in your hour of need. Who offer their help when you don’t even ask.
Friends who are genuine in their offers of helps and support.
Mutual Aid.
Like the friends who came to my rescue when I needed to move house on very short notice members little money in the bank.
These friends helped me move. And you know who you are. We became a 3 car convoy, back and forth from the old flat to the new flat, all in a few hours.
It was such a god(dess) sen. It was Black Madonna providing in my time of need. She moved with us, carrying each box or suitcase or plant.
I remember a time, after I’d said I was leaving, I’d taken my daughter on a break. We hired a campervan and travelled around the north -east coast. Still covid, still a pandemic. Summer relaxing of restrictions. Eat Out For Summer, something like that. The van kept breaking down for one reason or another.
We booked into a hotel for one night, and I got a phone call from a potential funder. Offering support to apply for emergency funding to help the organisation I was working for as project coordinator to be able to pivot. Still over the nature connection we’d been offering but through nature immersion online.
This person, who called out of the blue, helped me secure the bag. Helped me secure the funding, so I could continue to run nature connection events for others, during these difficult times, but also continue to be paid.
One of the reasons I thought I couldn’t leave my marriage before was because of finances. We lived pay cheque to pay cheque. I didn’t have the resources to move out and find a place of my own.
To me this was a miracle. This was a lifeline. This made this dream of leaving come through.
I think the big one here is Black Madonna showing me it was time to leave my marriage of over 20 years.
This is wisdom and insight .
I turned to my ex-husband and asked him for help. It was during the pandemic. I was struggling with how our world had been turned upside down with Covid, home schooling, pivoting with work and the brutal murder of George Floyd. I was struggling and was vulnerable and scared and in need of support.
I laid it all on the line. I was going down and needed a life-raft. My pleas fell on deaf ears. He could not help me.
So I called upon my own strength. I took the sacred act of saving myself and started to make the plans to leave. Black Madonna showed me the way, by showing me that I had to love myself. Love myself enough to save myself.
I ask the question, how do I know that this was the presence of Black Madonna in my life, showing me the way? Faith and trust. I trusted in myself enough to take the leap. I had my fears but I jumped anyway, I trusted in myself to find a way. I trusted in the universe or my ancestors or someone or something having my back.
I’m choosing to feel that this is Black Madonna. I know it’s me, I made the decision and acted upon it. but I’m not taking all the credit. There is someone or something out there who has my back.
What is spirituality if not believing in the divine, in our spirits and souls. I’m choosing to believe that God is a Black Woman. Because when God is a Black Woman, there is no conditional love. It is unconditional and unlimited. Black Madonna loves me in all my fucked up glory.
Today has been all about being in my happy place(s).
You’ve guessed it. My happy place(s) is by the sea. Within the sea. Close to the sea. Close enough so she can hold me, when I need that non-judgmental, nourishing embrace.
My happy place(s) also involves being in Kiwi, my campervan, by the sea.
To be able to stretch out on the bed, with first morning coffee, visual journal and this view, I’m happy.
Yes I’m in Kiwi again, close to the sea, looking at the evening sun on the sand dunes, above the sea. And I’ve just sitting here watching the breeze caress the grass, parked up in my happy place(s) up the coast in Northumberland.
