FemmeNoir Online
Home | What's New | About FemmeNoir | Commentary | Book Recommendations | Leaders & Legends | Who Is She | Articles | Herstory | Arts & Entertainment | Fashion | Multimedia | In Her Own Words | Poetry | Coming Out | Resources | Archives | Message Board | Calendar | Mailbag | Contact Me | Photos | Entertainment Guide | Org Spotlight and Announcements | Favorite Links | Search | Redbone Press | House of Concern | Pica 12
Columbia Williams Foster

Columbia Williams Foster us a poet and fiction writer.  She has been published in Kuumba (a poetry journal for lesbian women), Gay Black Female, Kuma2 online at Kuma2.net (under a pen name Cello Hammond. The short story is called "Tell Me." In April, 2002), Poetic Hours in London, Short Stories magazine, Collage, Christianity and the Arts Magazine (Chicago Ill), and other magazines and journals--sometimes under pen names.  

She is a 39-year-old African American lesbian, married to Diane Foster who is also a writer/educator. She is an artist whose work is featured and sold in Detroit, Michigan at a lesbian bookstore called A Woman's Prerogative under the name Cello. And she loves Femmenoir!!

Ms. Foster is presently working on a novel. 


It happened like the North Wind
coming from the end of the earth,
quietly sifting through tree branches
on a Fall morning, rustling leaves.

My heart broke loose ancient foundations
as she moved inside of me, planted a burning
core that seeps lava at the sound of her voice—
takes me back to Mecca over and over again;

calls me her Nubian Queen, said she’d
be my black, bronze King, and sex me
like the Wo-man she is. And I knew
that within seven days empires
could be built, worlds formed, and love created.


sometimes my heart leaks
pooling purple
long before I knew its capture
                       she was holding on---gasping

for what I could never give
digging deep to rapture one
morsel that may have fallen
off my soul

I found a hollow vase
my heart once breathed into
she must have taken it also
as she moved the ground
beneath me.


"A Day Late"

I came across our pictures the other day, the ones where you held me so close

I could feel my heart beat.  We were smiling so passionately.


I know it hurts you to know I’m gone, and things have changed,

That  you no longer reside in me. I heard the pain in your voice, and believed


Your words, but I am gone.  And you must move on.

I found your ring, the gold one that you had engraved, saying


“forever my love.”  And you kneeled before me and pledged today, tomorrow,

the future.  And we made love under candle light all through the night.


I know you meant those words and still do, but I am gone.

I know you thought that I would always be there with you,

No matter what came—rubbing you neck and back.  Soothing your fears,

And being your other rib. Your home. Through heart ache, arguments, and tears.

I know, so did I.


I’m sorry for how you are grieving, I hurt because of that.

I never meant to make you cry, or beg for my love.


But I am gone.

I do love you still…just not so desperately. No, I won’t be coming back, not

Anymore. I mailed your ring, could not bear to keep it. So sorry baby,

But…I am gone.

Chyann L. Oliver
Samantha Johnson
Roberta M. Rosa
Annie Knight (Mable)
Stephanie Adams
M. Bennett Hooper
Maria Joyner

FemmeNoir (c) 2003