What's your passion?

Last evening, I had the privilege of attending a spoken word open mic and slam in my city. It had been such a long time since I had been able to attend. I got to see old friends and new ones. When I am there, among poets, I feel so sane. It's the only way to explain it. Being around those who have no pretensions  , only a passion for the art, is so peaceful. I always get so inspired when I go. My desire to write is always stirred and I return home with a renewed sense of purpose. Everyone needs something like that in their life I think. Sometimes we don't get to do what we absolutely love as a career so we must seek that sense of purpose elsewhere. What's your passion? What keeps you sane? I write and dream of being able to see myself as a writer one day. Baby steps.

Smooches and Deuces

New poem!

I've never met expectations
Or been what others wanted me to be
My words have always been my outlet
My voice when I could not speak
When you think of a poet
I know you may not picture me
Don't judge me by my hair
Or my girlish ways
My sparkly top
And high-heeled shoes
Self-proclaimed Barbie
Ask anyone and they'd say that's just me
But I'm no shallow puddle
I am unique
The beauty is that I can be anything
Make you laugh
Make you cry
Make you listen to me
The thing is it took awhile to find this space
So watch out for me
I won't be silenced
Or be put in a corner
I'm here to leave my mark
Your subconscious will feel me
So don't count me out
I'm here to stay
And if you give me a chance
You just might
Be
Blown away

Poem #3

Welllll I didn't write yesterday. I felt really disappointed in myself, so I have resolved to write 2 poems today. I wrote 1 this morning and hopefully will write again this evening. Without further ado, here it is:

Madness swirls around me
There is chaos at every turn
I'm searching for the exit
Some way to get out
Desperate for the light
Amidst all this darkness
I only need to focus
I close my eyes
And summon the peace withing
I pray it's where I left it
Hope it's not dwindling
Everything slows down
A tornado in turtle speed
I resurrect my calm
It settles on me like a haze
I exhale
And face the world

Poetry

It's National Poetry Writing month. I had the pleasure of attending an open mic event that featured Spoken Word extraordinaire Marc Marcel. To say the least, I left inspired so I decided to take on the challenge of a poem a day for the month of April. Can I do it? We'll see. So without further ado, here's today's poem.

Words flow through my bloodstream
Creativity seeps through my pores
Inspiration strikes like a lightning bolt
And moves my pen across the page
This need
Engulfs me
Surrounds me
Feeds me
This need to inject my verse in this world
Occupies my every thought
Takes over everything
Until there's nothing left
I have to get it all out
Leave it all on the page
Until there is nothing left to be said
I must keep going
My mind working faster than my hand
And then
Just as quickly as it appeared
The muse leaves me
Breathless
Wanting
Shell of a poet
Waiting to be struck again

Notes on a Page...

Why are people automatically drawn to the unattainable? Especially women. I say women because that is the gender that I know.  Maybe it started with Eve, wanting what she knew was not good for her. Was there a less desirable fruit nearby that could've sustained her just as well? Probably. But the fruit that was forbidden was the most attractive. We do the same with people. We try to tell ourselves we are above judging someone based on purely physical appearance, but it's natural for us to gravitate towards what is pleasing to our eyes. I've always prided myself on being equal-opportunity but even I have fallen victim to the Eve syndrome. What about you? In 2012, let's work on seeing with our minds and hearts, not our eyes. You never know; you might be surprised.

Smooches and Deuces!

Notes on a Page...

Why do we as women refuse to see and hear the truth? Men tell us who they are either by actions or words and we still refuse to believe. Why is that? Is there something hardwired into our DNA that causes us to miss the obvious? Take me for instance. I declared 2012 "My Year" and exclaimed that "No Bullshit" was the motto. Skip ahead barely 2 months and what am I caught all in the middle of? Some bullshit. Behind a man at that. It's time to stop rewriting history. It's time to do something different. I can learn from my mistakes. Really, I can. Besides, it doesn't have to be January or a Monday for a fresh start :).

Smooches and Deuces

Poetry Corner-untitled

Love is always sweet
When it's forbidden
Stolen moments
Turning into seconds, minutes, hours
Time flying faster than a locomotive
Kisses hotter than a coal-hot oven
Temperatures rising faster than Mercury
Hearts fluttering like a million butterflies
Silence
When there isn't a word that needs to be said
Sadness
When time runs out
Memories
To hold on to
'Til the next time
When it begins again...

Disclaimer: All poetry featured here is my own work, product of my mind. Do not copy or steal my words! Thanks! :)