Posted in author, faith, friendship, honesty, hope, learning, life, love, lovers, passion, poet, poetry, sex, writing


like the softest of winds
in the darkness unseen
smooth and sudden he became my sin
black velvet body
smile like a king
drawing me in
I’m suffocating
edible dreams
sugar and whipped cream solutions
for the disapproval of kin
command me to be well
as i worship his skin
a thousand touches
for the unquenchable thirst within
love given and returned
in the span of a head spin
out of control
before skin met skin
shall we begin
and again


Posted in author, blogging, fear, healing, health, honesty, hope, learning, life, love, poet, poetry, stories, Uncategorized, writer, writing

The cycle

Breaking the cycle 

Is not easy 

The wheel you go around in has spokes

and is perfectly round, so hard to stop

once it gets rolling

trampling everything in its wake

even when you love it

you can still step on it 

Breaking it. 

Posted in author, blogging, empowerment, faith, healing, honesty, hope, life, poet, poetry, stories, truth, writer, writing

The intended recipient

I write every day. I don’t blog every day because it becomes monotonous for me. I don’t have something great to say every day and for me it’s best to share quality. I keep the quantity for myself. That’s why journaling is so good for me. I don’t share that.  They’re just a record of my life mundane and ordinary for we all can’t be Anais Nin who, to me has the best journals I have read thus far. Still what I do share, for me has to have a point because I want it to reach someone even if its just one person and resonate. I want whoever reads it to get where I’m coming from and maybe even see things in a way they hadn’t before. That’s one of the reasons I write. Lets face it, we all just want to be heard. We all want to connect in one way or other with our fellow readers even if its just one. We want to give that one the best we have. I know we would all love to touch millions with our writing and believe me so do I but it makes me feel very happy and grateful when the person my message was meant to reach absolutely gets it and appreciates its meaning and hopefully it did something  for them. If I’m lucky that happens. And I believe that that’s why it was written , to reach that person. The one person that needed to hear it most. I’m good with that. I know that most of us get discouraged when we write something we love and deem important and it hardly gets read. I know I have felt this way many times  but then I get that comment from that one individual who it touched and who did get and I realize, it got to where it needed to get. The right audience received it. We can ask for no more than that. So if you’re feeling discouraged I urge you to keep writing. Write about what resonates with you. Because what resonates with you will definitely resonate with someone else as well. More than that it will be well written since it’s from the heart. So keep the pen on the page. Someone is waiting on your words

Posted in author, honesty, hope, life, love, poet, poetry, truth, writer, writing


When I think of you
There are no butterflies
Instead there is a feeling of drunkenness that does not allow me
To think
I hear no songs of love or feel no woozy feeling
Of everlasting enduring bliss
Although I do feel overwhelmed by you
When you look at me
Responding to a question I’ve asked you
Two hours before

When I look at you
There are no double visions
Faint feelings of fainting at seeing the love of my life
Or shit like that
That only lasts about a Minute when people think they’re in love
But aren’t
Because when they don’t see you
It’s out of sight out of mind
And you stick to mine like glue
You know?

It’s when I feel you or taste you
That shit becomes real for me cause you’re
In my blood like a stream
In a really long song that you think will never end
And you taste like when you eat the best fruit ever
And wish it will never end
And that’s why I know this love is real
For me
I don’t know about you
Cause you’re the one who gets inside me every time

I just float beneath or above you
Knowing there’s something potent there like
A warm home cooked meal on a cold cold day
when you swear your fingers will fall off from lack of heat
and your feet want to compete
with the rest of your body
on who gets home first
out of need to be around you

thats some shit
this love thing
but I still wonder

Posted in blogging, life, love, poet, poetry, writer, writing

An Invitation

Hello my friends I wanted to invite you all to my poetry page where I will be participating in NaPoWriMo If you are participating as well please feel free to leave your link. I would love to read your work as well. The link for NaPoWriMo is also below if you want to participate.

Have fun creating beautiful poetry!

Posted in author, blogging, honesty, life, poet, poetry, stories, writer, writing

Are you born a Poet?


This is a question that I have always asked myself throughout all of my years of writing. Out of all of these years this is the first time I have actually sat myself down to write about it. I have been writing since I was 13 years old. That would be about 30 years now since I first put pen to paper. I fell in love with the written word at the library, the school library to be exact because back then though I knew book stores existed I had never been to one. Buying books was not on the top of the list when your single mom is working hard just to keep food on the table.

The library was my haven. Everything I could digest I read. My first favorite was Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare. I must have read it at least three times. I didn’t understand it the first time but I remember the exact moment I did understand it and that I was hooked! After that first understanding books became everything to me. I traveled with and through them everywhere. I read fiction, non fiction, poetry, art, traveling magazines, everything that peaked my interest.

Still, although I wrote, I did not begin to write poetry until I was 17 years old. I don’t remember exactly how I began to write poetry or what inspired me. I took college writing courses but those were vested mostly in english literature which was my major.

I just loved writing. It became my passion along with reading but I was not attracted to short stories or to being a novelist my work always seemed to take poetic form from the beginning. Even my thought process came in spurts and one liners. It has always been difficult for me to write something that is not poetry but it doesn’t stop me from trying. I am a writer after all.

That is why I have always questioned if poetry is learned or if you are born a poet?

I was born a poet although I know that reading opened me up in many ways. My vocabulary and understanding have grown immensely through my love of reading and many of my teachers and professors enhanced and nourished that love but i believe that I was already a poet. I needed only to discover it within myself and develop it. In my opinion you are born who you are going to be, talents intact. Just as musicians are born with an ear for music and painters with an eye for art, I was born with the mind and hands for words.

So, I guess I answered my own question, but what do you think?