Posted in poetry

Flowing Like Milk and Honey

Words don’t escape me
I let them out silky
and smooth like warm honey
that erupts from my fingertips
and I take a lick
enjoying the thickness of my
as my eyes close in the pleasure
suckled from my

Words don’t escape me
I let them linger
and spin like fresh cream
that puddles on the page
and I dip my fingertips
in for a taste
eyes closed in the pleasure
that my words bring.

My words flow like
milk and honey
in a land of plenty and still
there is never enough
of the pleasures given
to the fingertips that dip
into my mind
and pen the words
I taste.

Posted in Daily Prompt, poetry


I dream of the moments
when I can let loose
on a naked
piece of paper
such unlined
unruled nothingness
primed for adorning

And with a sigh of release
to a void suspired
for my musings
the euphoric flood comes
as quick and dynamic as a sneeze
as comforting and easing as stretched limbs
as rampant and wild as carnivorous beasts
and the reeling chaos becomes

I yearn for the moments
when I can let loose
my ramblings
melodic musings
delicious dalliances
the crafted chaos
calmed as it is written
on a once naked
piece of


Posted in poetry


I have reservations
like a table for two
me and Me
sitting catty-cornered
sipping sours
side-eyeing each other
in silence
I speak first and lie
or maybe I filter my words
maybe I hold back
and refrain from saying the
that refuses to settle
or calm
Irritation building
like a Cat 5 hurricane
churning inside
willing itself forward
but refusing to leave
the comfortable chaos that gives it strength
Those truthful and revealing words
settle on the back of my tongue
and nearly choke me
to death
as softer
satiny words expel themselves
nasally from the shallows
spilling bitterly across
my paralyzed tongue
I have reservations with
revealing a truth
as dangerous as
my honesty
so maybe I filter myself
and refrain
from being


Posted in Daily Prompt, DiscoverWP, poetry

What we say…

Conversations are the paths
and roads
and trails that we
unknowingly travel together.
The best
have no destination in mind
and instead of
pushpin marked maps
we explore the
scarred valleys
the moving mountains
and the streams of memories
carved through our joys and pains
A journey that leads us
to the very moment where
we exist in the recreation of the
moments in words
because what we say in
can lead us to
and lovers
and shared destinations


Posted in poetry

The Nativity: A Christmas Poem

The warm night air was fragrant
The cool breeze softly blew
Stars twinkled in a sky so clear.

To a resting virgin servant
A pure young maiden
The angel Gabriel appeared.

“Fear not, sweet young Mary
God finds great favor in you.
For to you a child shall be born.

The holiest of infants
A kingdom among kings
God’s only begotten son.”

“I’m not worthy,” said Mary,
“but I question not his will.
His word I shall obey.

He will provide for my people
A Savior for all mankind
God’s blessing upon this day.”

Mary rose from her slumber
And knelt to pray
Her task seemed great and hard.

A young virgin maiden
And her humble carpenter husband
Had been chosen to raise the Lord.

The villagers stared
They doubted her truth
She had clearly broken a vow.

They even questioned Joseph
His honor destroyed
His heart filled with doubt.

Until one warm night
Gabriel reappeared
“Joseph, listen with God’s word Mary pleases.”

To her, a son
The child of God will be born
And he shall be called Jesus.”

To Bethlehem they travelled
Over harsh and terrible roads
Joseph, Mary, and the unborn child.

To the land of his fathers
The many sons of David
A census to be compiled.

The time had come
The inns were filled
No place for the babe to lay.

A side street stable
Where the animals dwelt
And a manger filled with hay.

The wise men came
The prophesy they’d heard
Great wisdom from afar.

Even the shepherds
Resting in the fields
Could not ignore the bright star.

On that holy night
That first Christmas night
The world rang out the joy.

The Messiah had come
Peace to the whole world
Salvation in the baby boy.

Posted in Daily Prompt, DiscoverWP, poetry

November 4, 2008

Of a nation built
on the backs of a race
and a race won
on the back of a nation

a time in history when
we give THANKS
to our elders,
the marching leaders,
non-violent fighters
and silent movers
of Civil Rights’ barricade.

a time in history when
we say THANHS
to our elders,
the ones that
shed their multicultural blood
in our precedent
and on our path
to this day.

America voted and spike
to a world that listened
hearing our united cry
Multicultural blend of patriotism
believes in a gentleman
reflected in our skins
and ideals.

Our new leader
a dreamer that believed
we could
because we counted…
we were a part of his
story and he is a part of
a history being told as it is written
spoken to our children
with a broad future
Yes, we can!
Tes, we can
become anything together
as King dreamed
and we now sing.


Posted in poetry

Fire, Honey, Storm, and Flight

I am quick
to express myself
the haste of it feels more passionate
than if I waited a moment longer
negates depravity
and my emotions are of the utmost importance
so I don’t hesitate
when I say that you really
piss me off and
are amazing
make me sick and
complete me
have no idea and
know me so well
should leave me be and
need to hold me

words uttered so quickly
that they don’t require time
because they exist in the moment’s feeling
not always perfected by
a second thought
and I am not perfect either
I am the juxtaposition of fire, honey, storm, and flight
and I don’t always know how I am, or what I am, or where I may land
from the journeys that I take
but I love you within
and without the error of my ways
never changing and never the same
I feel the words as they breeze around me and through me
racing, spinning on the edge of being
unruly, wild, and liberated
and the world feels perfectly tilted because
I am quick
to express myself
in love


Posted in Daily Prompt, DiscoverWP, poetry

The Mighty

No salutes or flag bearers or anthems
or cherished combat boots or gleaming metal tags

or outrage

for the lost ones
who were the bravest
and the mighty
just trees and ropes and whips
and dogs and bullets and rape

and mutilation

for the sold ones
striped of the loved ones
bred for the new ones

behold the solders of the many failed
yet never abandoned battles
for the right to own
their bodies and to keep
their families

I consider my fathers to have
been the bravest
and the mighty
royal warriors by blood-right
no auction price could ever truly place
value on the brave and the mighty
fathers, sons, and brothers who lost battles
but won their freedom
and stood as brave and mighty men
only to be bound and hung
by the heartless

I consider my fathers to have
been the bravest
and the mighty
to know that living was hard
and death wasn’t the easiest
but in the land of the brave
it sure was the freest