Saturday, June 14, 2014

Father's Day 2014

My youth were raised in a single parent household ...

I am a woman, a mother, the nurturer, the gentle touch, the soft spoken voice of reason. Sure, I've been the disciplinarian, the breadwinner, the household repair person, the lawn care provider and many other roles that may have at one time been gender assigned. But one thing I am not, is a man. I will never be a father. I didn't teach my sons to stand up and pee, I couldn't possibly understand what it's like to be a he. I haven't taught them how to shave and I learned to tie a tie by practice. I will not ever be as strong as a man nor will I pretend that I can. Sure, I may wear pants, but with a feminine stance. I am only one half, the X, he provides the Y and determines the sex. It takes us two to create a youth and when the one day comes around a year, I'm going to give him his just due. I'll not take this time to steal his shine. I'll not add a tag to pin to his coat. I'll not take away his masculine energy. I will promote him and acknowledge those men that do. They fill the role that their supposed to. He cares for his seed and teaches them the way.  I give him all his props this and every other Father's Day!!!

Wishing all the fathers and father figures out there taking care of, providing proper guidance to and raising their youth (or taking on the responsibility for another man) a Very Happy Father's Day. Bless⬆

Sunday, April 13, 2014

9.5/30 - Melancholy in the Interim

9.5/30 from :

"And now, our (optional) prompt. Today’s prompt was suggested by Bruce Niedt. Here’s Bruce’s explanation: take any random song play list (from your iPod, CD player, favorite radio station, Pandora or Spotify , etc.) and use the next five song titles on that randomized list in a poem.
Happy writing!"

Melancholy in the Interim

do the right thing?

I've always 
been here for you
the times 
when your sorrows 
the skies 

so caught up 
in your dreams, 
rapid eye movement 
drew up plans 
for your next
Never realizing 
that you 
weren't trapped
in a tunnel 
subversively stuck 
only needed 
for your thoughts 
to wind down
A relief 
just to bring 
peace of mind

to hear the roar 
when the people cheer
your ears 
were too clogged 
with the negatives 
your imagination

standing here 
above the ground 
I wish 
would have 
held on 
a little longer
gave up, 
couldn't wait 
it was 
to shine

There's now no next time...

13/30 - A friend


I wanted to write a song for you
But I didn't know where to begin
I reached into my memory bank
The first thought was friend

Since the days in junior high
I can't remember a time you weren't by my side
Through thick and thin
Ups and downs
You were always there to turn my frown upside down

We'd often laugh at the silliest of things
When I would forget the lyrics
You always remembered the words to sing

When I was down and out
I turned to you without doubt
You'd provide the comforting words
Or unleash your wisdom
Or lend me your courage

People are placed in your life path for a reason
Often traveling in different directions
I'm glad that our lives met at the perfect intersection
Although we may not always agree
Finding a friend in you was a plan that was meant to be

12/30 - Why The Wind?

from Day 12 of National Poetry Month, write a 'replacement' poem in which you choose a noun and an intangible item.

Noun = music 
Intangible = (the) wind

I found this article about music at The Economist (

Why The Wind?

If the WIND be the food of love, play on, give me excess of it. 

And if not? Well, what exactly is it for?

WIND is a big part of the economy. 

Bring the WIND to the living rooms and picnic tables.

Today, people are so surrounded by other people's WIND that they take it for granted.

Other appetites, too, have been sated even to excess by the WIND.

What appetite drives the proliferation of the WIND to the point where the average American teenager spends 1½-2½ hours a day—an eighth of his waking life—listening to it?"

An idea that is widely touted is that the WIND binds groups of people together. 

The WIND is a cross between an accident and an invention. 

"It is an accident because it is the consequence of abilities that evolved for other purposes. And it is an invention because, having thus come into existence, people have bent it to their will and made something they like from it."

Thursday, April 10, 2014


10/30 'advertisement poem'

Prompt from
" Today, I challenge you to write your own advertisement-poem. You don’t need to advertise Burma-Shave. Any product (or idea) will do. Perhaps you could write a poem advertising poetry? It certainly could use the publicity!"

Sun, Get Some

Inner-g getting low?
Don't jump out da win-dow
Just let your Soul glow
Sit back, ⌚ the blues go

Sun, get that in your life

Take a step outside
Spread your arms wide and lift your head up to the sky
Let the rays warm ya insides

Sun, ya need it to survive

Makes vitamin D come alive
Available most days
Even more plenty-full in the Spring and Summer times
Doesn't even cost a dime
Just a likkle me time

Wednesday, April 9, 2014


I threw my hands in the air
Crying out to the Most High in despair
Here my cries Great Universe
Know that life here on Earth
Hurts for most
We struggle
Care for those who could care less
The weight of this burden
Truly a heavy load
Guide my spirit ancestors
So I may trudge this uneven road
Too often we think we know the answers
Then something hits us and 
You find yourself returning
To from that which you came
Purposefully put here to endure
God is counting on you
To make it through
When you feel down and out
Yell Out
To the sky and speak your peace
Sing your praises
Let the tears fall as they cleanse
And heal

The universe hears all
It's the air we breath
It surrounds us
It blankets us in comfort
I throw my hands in the air
Holler if you hear hear me
Do you care
A chorus of thanks I share



Save for work
and a handful that care
Life on earth
seems rather bare

Alone in a room
filled with many
Life in this society
still seems empty

We pass on another
on crowded streets
Daring not to speak
or allowing eyes to meet

Although, in tight knit circles
  revolves the clique
Life in native groups
still at times, doesn't stick

Semblances of closeness
often tricks of illusion
We project inner emotions
on things and beings without
true devotion