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Jakeel R. Harris has written multiple poetry books and recently finished, Diagnosable and Six Months In & Six Months Later (The Year Was...)

Diagnosable is more than just a book about a Black man's thoughts and experiences in America, Diagnosable shines a light on mental health illnesses and its complexities with the everyday feelings of an average person.Through poems on life and love, Harris examines how emotions and thoughts change as we navigate many of life's inconsistencies and tragedies. Diagnosable exposes itself to be a open display of human emotion.

The Year Was...is a story of what was, what is, and what has yet to come.

GET DIAGNOSABLE HERE

GET THE YEAR WAS...HERE

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RECENT APPREARANCES

Six Months In. Change is on the horizon. We outsideeeeeee.

I’ve been MIA because life be lifeing but I still be doing thangs. Thanks for having me. @shawntae.mitchum

It’s been and continues to be a privilege.

Taking the hint, gotta love more.

Love: A Letter to Myself

Living: A 2024 Photo Dump. Trips, Nature, Poetry and Growing.

Celebrate your identities but don’t forget the reality of the world.

Transcription: Celebrate

when February ended
and learning about Black history
no longer came with the glory
of acknowledgment,
the world went back to normal.
stores removed sections
of Black excellence from their aisles.
Black authors were pushed
to the back of shelves.
Black athletes reverted back to being
nothing more than entertainment.
society finally was able to take off its tolerance cloak.
said a whole month of Blackness turned the world dark.
so let there be light once more.
that to say
Black lives mattering was up for debate again.

when June ends
and the sun’s appearance
starts to turn rainbows
into faded advertisements,
watch how support is pulled from windows.
notice who is changing colors.
look at how much money pride can get you.
those same companies promising allyship
just donated half of their revenue
to politicians hating on your identity.
see the bills passed on your behalf.

come July
you’ll wonder why
everything is back to business
as usual.
you’ll understand that people are still bigots.
that one month of celebrating
was more profitable for the people who hate you
than the ones who actually support you.

I spent the betterment of 12 min correcting and lecturing a older white woman, who happens to be the hotel front desk clerk, at my recent vacation destination, on how to properly say my name. She handed me my room key in anger. I don’t regret anything.

This reminded me how important my name is. Which reminded me of an old poem I wrote.

Transcription: Mispronounced

if they cannot say your name properly,
syllables and all,
correct them.
every.
single.
time.

don’t settle for nicknames for their comfort.
don’t justify their mistakes because they aren’t familiar with phonetics.
tell them to SOUND THAT SHIT OUT!
force them to understand the relationship between the silent letters and the vowels screaming next to them.

because if you don’t,
they will be quick to add accents like sound effects.
they will emphasize cultural stereotypes in the pronunciation.
they will remind you
that they are still trying to colonize language.
that they are still trying to force assimilation by making a mockery of who you are.
they want you to be embarrassed of your title.
your label.
your identifier.

don’t let them steal that too.
correct them.
even if it’s a subtle mistake,
don’t let them walk away thinking
they can call you what they want to.

Find your people. They will make the world slightly more bearable and drastically more livable.

Transcription: Annoy Me

find people who annoy you
in the best kind of way.
those who are a constant pester
anytime you talk.
even if it isn’t that frequent.
because we all grown and occupied by grown problems with grown adults acting like they ain’t grown.
or sometimes life just be life-ing too hard.
still, they find time to make bothering you a hobby they’ve become proficient at.
asking you if you ate.
getting on nerves about if you are loving yourself properly.
if you are taking moments out of your day to embrace joy.

find these people
who can turn
your irritation with them into active support.
your venting sessions into a well-needed check-in.

find people who find comfort in unconditionally loving you;
with and without fulfilling your need for reassurance.

Another Random Poetry Post.

Transcription: Bodied

I watched this white girl
no older than 13
try to record herself
dancing to popular Tik-Tok trends
in the frozen foods section in Target
when she caught wind of my eyes judging
her uncoordinated attempts at bodying the beat
she proceeded with an onslaught of racial slurs
thinking it would take my attention away
from the lack of rhythm in her actions

and isn’t that ironic
screaming insults at a Black body
while listening to body ody-ody-ody-ody
as you aspire to become famous
off the music of Black bodies
inside a store
named after labels given to Black bodies
because people are afraid of Black movements

unless it’s attached to a trend and not a person
they’re not willing to accept Black culture

Random Poetry Post.

Transcription: Pictures aren’t always what they seem

I’ve been told
that from pictures
I look like I have fun
but calming energy.
people say
I have a great smile too.
but that’s irrelevant.
back to the point
about my energy.
I wonder
if opinions would change
if they knew
that this “calm” energy
was out of spite.
that this “calm” energy
so frequently parades around in Black Air Forces in the morning
before dressing down to a nonchalant attire.
like nike slides and cargo shorts.
more pockets than necessary
yet using none of them.
that this “calm” energy
so desperately wants to be like anger.
an eager weapon.
a ticking time bomb.
ready to explode on everyone.
about the smallest inconvenience.
I wonder
would this energy
be perceived differently
if people saw
how excessive
it checks over its shoulder
for the past it believes
is chasing behind its footsteps.
or how paranoid
this energy is.
how it has
a degree in fidgety.
can teach a course in restlessness.
would it still be viewed
as calm.
or another adjective.

Am I confused, thinking or just talking shit? Maybe all of the above. Guess you had to be there to know. Thanks @shawntae.mitchum @miracostacollege for the opportunity to spread vulnerability and talk Black Student Success.

Thank you @sharaya_oh and @allanhancockcollege @ahc_library for inviting me to your Poetry Symposium event and share apart of me with you all. Thank you for the laughter and space to be vulnerable. Thank you for embracing my poetry and presence.

Throwback to Training the Trainer at UCLA.

Poem: I’m So Black

to the women in my life, especially the Black ones, you deserve every positive thing the world has to offer laid directly at your feet, without asking.

Mothers, sisters, and daughters in Gaza, Congo, and Sudan are suffering. Speak tf up.

Transcription: Utopia

sistas.
sistas respected everywhere.
and not a one
feeling powerless.

If you’re not paying attention to what’s been happening in the world:

A man engulfed himself in flames because the country he signed up to fight for is complicitly aiding in the furtherance of the genocide of Palestinians in Gaza………..all whilst having law enforcement point a gun at his body’s flaming protest; slowly watching patriotism burn. #RIPAaronBushnell

As this genocide continues (it needs to fucking end), the least you could do is educate yourself, speak up and get active. I haven’t used my voice, platforms, and privilege nearly enough and need to do my part.

Creative activism is what I’ll do with my platform. Don’t like it, gtfo or see these hands.

Black is deity-like but will settle for nothing less than being a star while walking this Earth. Happy Black History Month. Let’s make sure to celebrate Blackness every single day.

And…..Again: Palestine is still suffering. So is Sudan. And Congo. And Haiti. Don’t stop talking about it. Be louder. Be active. Be aware. Be angry. Be fighting for freedom for all.

Diagnosable out now. Link in bio.

Transcription: Black and Alive

to be Black
and alive
is to be a star.

Black is love. Happy Black History Month.

And…..Again: Palestine is still suffering. So is Sudan. And Congo. And Haiti. Don’t stop talking about it. Be louder. Be active. Be aware. Be angry. Be fighting for freedom for all.

Diagnosable out now. Link in bio.

Transcription: Black Love Exists

don’t be fooled.
Black people
experience love
without grief and betrayal too.

don’t let them convince you
that we are unable to love honestly.

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