Oprah & My Garbage

“Nothing that has ever happened to you is wasted” says my aunt Oprah to me Check out the full poem here – “Oprah & My Garbage” Oooh Cliffhanger!  Is she really my aunt :-)  I wrote this poem as part of a Documentary Poetics class exercise where we had to

The Sound of Not Knowing – B-Flat

The backdoor opens forcing a scaling pitch then a thump. Check out the full poem here – “Sounds of B-Flat” Side note or preamble: This is probably the shortest poem (or tie to it) that I’ve ever written. So I guess the blog post should just be as equally as

Biscuit Making Hands

Their beauty now erupts in the sweet folds of unfamiliar lines Check out the full poem here – “To the Woman With Hands Made for Biscuit Making” This poem grew out of a writing exercise that I was doing one day where I was using my grandmother as my muse :-).  I remember

The Inevitable ‘But’

“I felt your carefully chosen words fall in fluttered shapes around me” Check out the full poem here – “The Inevitable But” OK, it is said that women speak about 3 times per day than men in words averaging around 20,000 words for women and about 7,000 for men.  That

Smoking Rivers and Winter Mornings

Just past the hills, in the thicket of the trees, the choked branches fight against the cold grip; barely touching the smoking river beneath them. With only the fog in the distant, the river seems to travel to nowhere in particular bringing life to all its half-awaken creatures. Check out

All Lives Matter – ‘Protests’

his body laid flat against the concrete ground, evidence for another life taken. Check out the full poem here – “Protests”  Sharing a poem that I wrote. I was in the car a couple of weeks ago listening to one of the news station talk about the grand jury decision for the

” For my grandfather” – In a crowded train to you

I can close my eyes and still feel the warm hugs of last year’s Summer; taste the ocean’s salt on my tongue. Check out the full poem here – “In A Crowded Train to You”  I grew up only tangentially knowing my maternal grandfather.  He was an alcoholic and not in

Introducing … My Personal Quotes (and sometimes) Ramblings Page :-)

I often have these words finding their homes in my heart for days until I just have to journal them outwards — which is mostly how my poetry starts.  I call them “My Heart’s Randomness.” As I put them into words & images, I’ll post them here as well and write full

“Here I am where I  ought to be” – Louise Erdrich

“Breaking into Dawn” – Collection of Photos & Poems on Mental Health

Check out my short documentary project below on Mental Health in the US – ‘Breaking into Dawn’.  The project requirements were 7 or less photos [though I went over :-)], contextual writing [I chose creative-poetry], inclusion of archival information and there was no restriction to either collected or personal photos.  I

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