I write to purge.
Writing gives me an outlet to say the words my lips dare not touch.
I write to release. I write so that I can be my own sounding board; so that the page can be a set of ears to listen to my thoughts.
I write to calm the storms that swirl and explode in my mind and in my spirit. To sift through all the many jumbled up and confused emotions inside of me, and to bring order and peace to my psyche.
I write as a way to hug myself when I’m lonely and to encourage myself when it’s only me.
I write to dialogue with the spirit of my God, and the spirits of those who came before me, and with the spirits of my present sisters worldwide.
I write to purge.

And then I share. Continue reading





I’m in my home. In my atmosphere.
Candles lit. Incense burning.
Slow tunes flowing from my speakers as I pour a glass of wine and begin to slow myself for the night.

I sip. I hum. I listen.
” … boxes don’t fit me very well. Confinement is hell, or what I imagine hell to be…
to Fall into your Winter means to Spring where my dreams dare not Summer.
to give into your darkness, means to take all my light and hide…”
-Carolyn Malachi
Continue reading

Are? Who? How?


from the vault…

May 7, 2011
Are moments real? What makes a “happening” sincere?
How do we know the difference between reality and fake?
What is it that makes time stand still?
What is it that makes people truly feel?
How do we know when one’s intentions are true?
How can we tell that lies are being used?
When do we decide to have our selfishness removed?
What is it that makes some continue to abuse?
What is it that moves us to do whatever it is we please?
Why are some things impossible to release?
Where does it say that compassion is a part of a game?
What is it that makes hearts grow cold and smiles fade?
How is it that broken hearts trust love again?
Why do certain moments, good or bad, always in mind replay?
Why does the sun shine when thoughts are heavy and burdened?
Why is it the thunder rolls during the best of moments?
What makes rivers of emotions flow swiftly into oceans of madness?
What makes the heart flutter?
Where does the soul find its mate? Who decides relationship’s fate?
What is art? Who wrote the rhyme?
How is music defined?
How can beauty be melodious?
When do words become a painted picture?
When does one’s artistry becomes another one’s being?
Why is seeing believing?
Are these words? Ramblings? Thoughts?
Is this art?
Is this a moment?
Are moments real? What makes a “happening” sincere?”

my last



“Well I love you like a child loves the sun.
I love you like an athlete loves to run.
like cereal loves a spoon, and I love you like the stars love the moon.
like peanut butter goes jelly.
like Santa loves his joy filled belly.
I love you cuz you hold my hand, and accept me for who I am.

I love you near or far. I love you for who you are.

You amaze me daily,
your love for me simply blows my mind
I appreciate the light of your smile.
It makes my heart go wild.
Excited for all the things to come, I constantly am.
Simply put, I love you ma’am.

I create for you,
because my future has never seem so bright,
I create for you,
because this time I think I got it right.
I create for you,
because you hold my hand in your sleep at night.
I create for you.
Be forever in my life. ”

The last song I wrote…


my first


“flow thru my design
thru my inner space and time.
flow thru my own universe
thru my spiritual rebirth.

Flow through me.

flowing thru my waters deep
please speak to me.
call my name.
dwell inside my entity and stay…

Flow through me.

flow thru me. come flow thru me.
your energy surrounding me.
I can take your inner light
and float upon the highest height.

come flow thru me energy.

flow thru my design
thru my inner space and time.
flow thru my own universe
thru my spiritual rebirth.

Come. Flow through me”

The very first song I ever wrote.


It’s Date Night


I had plans for this weekend. Sunday is Valentine’s Day, and I had plans. Plans starting with this show I’m getting dressed to go and see…
I’ve showered. I’m putting on makeup and listening to grooves; singing to distract myself from…plans. And it works for awhile. Then I reach for lipstick. Not my lipstick. I forgot I had this lipstick. I put it on. It’s your lipstick.
But now I’m late, cuz I’ve been staring in the mirror for ten minutes looking at your lipstick on my lips. I’m suppose to be out the door. I quickly dress, one more quick look in the mirror, and I’m headed to my car. Destination, DC. Continue reading

Feel It?


Do you feel it?

Something’s changing.
Something’s coming.
It caught me off guard.
I was indeed expecting a shift, changes, a plethora of new experiences…
but I was expecting the changes I had planned, or rather had planned for me.
I didn’t recognize that the usurping of my plans was actually the beginning of “something”.

Something is changing.
Something is just beginning.
Something…is coming.
It caught me so off guard and I fought it at first, and rejected it, and it made me cry.
Silly me. Holding on to a precursor that was never intended to be a main event
I almost missed the shift in the wind. Almost didn’t notice the breeze change direction.

I hear a faint tune in the distance; coming closer.
I see the blue of the early morning turning to grey turning to day; sun’s coming.

Something is just beginning
Silly me, not feeling the spring of magic’s impending arrival.
I can already feel the energy of the approaching new day.
Something is coming.

I can feel it.