This is why I wrote you poetry
and sprinkled your chest with rose petals.
This is why I kissed you in public.
This is why I made time to meet your parents.
This is why I listened.
This is also why I left.
As I learn to fill my own cup, I realize why it was so empty.
I am taking a performance poetry class with Daemond Arindell at Freehold Theatre. I am learning about the many voices that want to come through me. I am learning about where things stick inside of me, what is brave enough to be heard and what still wants to hide under the eaves. I am learning…
girls playing on a zip line the scent of clover his voice merging with sunlight
the guy that gets the girl is the one who knows how to love her to love with a full, open heart with a deep, listening ear with joy and abandon the guy that gets the girl takes a stand acts like a man claims her (loves her) the guy that gets the girl has…
blame is a sour boar piercing the heart with fierce tusks of shame creation craves compassion and the flickering love dance of a gentle heart
Presto! The Magus created a life of beauty and grace by pulling it out of her hat! Life is so dellaluscious right now. It almost seems like it should be illegal but I’ll just keep letting more of these good things flow: Smart, fabulous kids. Spaciousness for love and creativity. More sexy, talented man who…
This morning, I led my second writing workshop at a local homeless shelter. Before I arrived, I chose the following prompt: In the silence I understand… We do 20 minutes of free writing and then share. I found it interesting that one of the women I was working with could hear but didn’t speak. I…