Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Sunset Being

The sunset doesn't become easier to describe the more times you see it
No matter if you know the colors or names
It's not the same
I feel no one
No one
Can deny goodness in the world when they see a sunset like this
People take a snap
Put their heads down to text it to their friends or post it online
I just stare
Breathing it in with each inhale
Breathing out the pink, purple and blue
I see it as it comes out of my mouth
Like your warm smokey breathe that lingers in front of your face when it's too cold outside
Until the blended bursts of beauty are in front of my lips
I want to kiss them
Eat them
Suck them back into my mouth
Taste its color
Savor it
Let it linger on my tongue
I swallow it deep into my belly
Filling up the center of my being; it envelops me
Takes me over
Until all I am
All I radiate
Is sunset

Saturday, November 9, 2013

Crossed Lines On The Subway

Everyone stands a few feet apart from one another. Just to be safe. Safe enough as not to invade anyones bubbles. Safe enough not to make contact or connection. Peoples eyes look all about, careful never to come into the sight line of another human being. Stomp on your curiosity. Crush your hopes of ever seeing anyone.
But there’s always that one person. Those few people whose gaze lingers a little longer than what is socially acceptable. They are longing - yearning, just as you are. For that connection. For that reminder that we are all apart of this vast planet. Just another number but another number together. Together in our struggle. In our hope. In our dreams of something more.
And suddenly for that split second, that shared moment where your eyes lock onto someone elses for just one brief flash - you get it. You feel it. And it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever felt. And you want to keep looking. Keep being with them. Keep existing within each others eyes. But it’s “awkward.” You shouldn’t. You know its not right. So one of you looks away because the timer is up on when its no longer ok to really see each other.
The real question is, who set this timer in the first place?  

Friday, October 25, 2013

Tea Kettle Love

I love it when you work me up

Spin me round

Push my buttons

Tease until

I explode

Like a teapot



As if it finishes

They say a watched pot never boils

My blood simmers when you look at me

Your eyes act as my ignitors

My lighter

‘til its so hot

the only way to blow off steam is to release on sound

'til I’m so hot



All you can do is pour me

Drink me

Warm and done

Sunday, October 13, 2013



Beneath the spinning ceiling fan
I breath in sweaty socks
My body is glued heavy to the floor
The aching of my feet
Rings through the air
As air is pushed from here
To there
As if beneath the storm
She lays
Breathing in the ashes from her ancestors
She does not know
Where to go
Or what to do
Or why
But she knows how to stare them in them eye
Where are you coming from?
He asks as the fan blows fiercely in his face
It slowly rotates blowing in hers
Pushing the tear drops from her wet eyes
So close to the floor she can see every flick of dust
Every piece of dirt
The wood
Is this what ants see?
She wonders to herself
As she stares at the ceiling fan spin
And spin
And spin

Sunday, August 18, 2013

The Park Is Open

It seems as if it was only yesterday that I moved into my apartment on Logan Street, half a block from the park of Echo Park. It was one of the selling points of why the place we had found was so perfect. I dreamt it up in my mind and it seemed to be sent to us seamlessly in sync with the Universe.

Shortly after we moved in, almost as an ironic joke, the park went under a huge construction that would not finish for two years. We moved in April 2011 and the park was scheduled to re-open in the Spring of 2013. I only had a few mornings running around that beautiful (yet smelly) lake before I was forced to run the perimeters of construction, usually in the street, hoping some distracted LA driver would not hit me with their car.

Though annoyed, I waited patiently with bated breath

Every time I ran by I couldn't help but stand on my tippy toes to see what was happening beyond the CAUTION tape. I’d lift up the tarp on the fence to catch a glimpse of the transformation occurring within its’ borders.

I found out the park would open a week after I had left for South Africa this summer. Well, poo! Fine then. I will wait. For I must.

Now the park is open. As James drove me back from the airport yesterday I marveled at its beauty. It is gorgeous. Randomly scattered about I still find pieces of trash from jerks who seek to degrade the good. Destroy the new. But it doesn't matter.

It’s alive again. With families gathering, friends walking, couples paddle boating, children playing and dogs running. The energy the beautiful transformation of the park has made possible is amazing.

I can’t help but make the connection to the metaphor that the park is like myself in a way. Just getting back from traveling I reflect on my own personal journey of the past two years.

What a difference two years truly can make. Funny to think of how long two years seemed when they boarded it up two years ago. And how like a blink, a wrinkle in time, it is done. Two years has passed. And no matter how much impatience I felt for it “to just be done already”, I know it was well worth the wait seeing what it has become.

Anything worth having is worth waiting for. Anything worth doing is worth putting in the time. And sometimes, though we may not like it – scratch that – we never like it, working on oneself and making a conscious effort to grow and transform takes time. It can be painful. It requires effort and does not happen overnight. But man is it worth it.

I am beyond grateful for the gorgeous park that is now open a half a block away from where I live. And as far as my own transformation, sometimes I can’t find words to describe the gratitude I feel.

Here’s a word: Peace.

I feel peace.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Follow Me To Africa

For those of you who haven’t heard I’m going to South Africa this summer with a company called ThinkImpact. I was hired as an adviser for their Institute this summer. To find out more follow my journey via my other blog specifically for my adventures as a travel writing, vagabond with insatiable wanderlust.

Below is the link to my blog where I will be recording my adventures:

Nants ingonyama bagithi baba……
From the day we arrive on the planet
And blinking, step into the sun
There's more to see than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done

Follow me as I blinking step into the sun :)

Please share my stories. I'm honored to share them with you and hopefully the world.



Sunday, May 19, 2013

To Censor, or not to Censor, that is the Question:

I sat down to write a very significant and insightful (read in my big girl serious voice) blog entry about how our inner critic, endless mind chatter, creative Censor (courtesy of "The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron) if you will is killing us. Controlling us. Keeping us in fear. Somehow this poured out and I couldn't seem to stop. To stop would let the Censor win. And though the Censor wins a lot. Not today....

           As the sun blinds me through the blinds on this glorious Sunday, I actually hear birds chirping as the smoky dust from the barbecue pierces my nostrils as I sit in this warm bright room. As I adjust the blinds so I can see I’m temporarily poked by the suns rays through its splits. One orchid hangs limply as one is bright and perked outdoing the other. If only they knew it wasn't a competition. Many tongues are spoken on the air outside as I try to make out the meaning to one conversation only to realize it doesn't matter. Words are being spoken and shared among friends and families as dogs bark and engines rev on this busy street in Los Angeles.

Why does this orchid hang so low? Perk up little orchid. Don’t you know we are waiting for your greatness to bloom? Everyone can see it but you. Laughter. A baby crying. What for? I might never know. A wall with many windows crammed onto one building. Drying clothes, potted plants and filth decorate the little glimpses into the neighbor’s worlds.

 Where is this coming from? These words? This flow? This fear that if I stop typing my muse with get mad and never grace me with her presence again. This rabbit foot of luck. Me wanting to force this essay into a preachy sermon-blog entry-poem? What if it can’t be forced into nothing but this flow? Flow on.

The mustache beneath the potted plant smiles up at me as if he knows a secret. Let me in on it Mr. Mustache. Please. Pretty please. Isn't it beautiful that art doesn't have to be beautiful? Or make any sense? It can be pure play. Pure poetry of abstract nothingness. Why are things that mean nothing so hard for us to swallow? We feel hallow. When really it’s just like when we were in kindergarten and our drawings and our games didn't need to make sense or have a reason they just were. They existed. And it was glorious and that was enough for us. When did we start taking ourselves so seriously? When did life stop being so fun and become so “adult?”

“I’ll never grow up!”, my inner child shouts and stomps. But have I? Every worry or conviction that comes to my head drives me crazy but when I really stop to take a look at the absurdity of it all I can’t control my laughter. Quirky smiles of “Oh you!” as I shake my finger at my logical mind. “When are you gonna learn to let go and play like you used to?” Good question. When are you?

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Love Lifts Us Up Where We Belong

In honor of Valentine's Day I'm opening up my creative heart to this vast virtual universe and sharing some of my love poems. The first poem was first read this past year at Da Poetry Lounge during one of their Tuesday Spoken Word nights. Wo-man, do I love that place! I need to get my butt back up on that stage and to that mic because there is nothing quite like the rush of sharing your own words with strangers.

I’m not sharing this particular work to indulge in the love cliches and corniness that is marketed and shoved down everyone’s throats on this very holiday. Nor as a reminder to all the single ladies, correction, people out there or to people in relationships where they may feel have become too “bland” or have gotten too “comfortable” for romance.

If anything I hope me sharing reminds everyone out there, single or in a relationship to never settle. And that love, is always worth opening your heart for again.

No matter how scary those uncharted waters may seem.

And I'm not just talking about romantic love either. Opening your heart to anyone or anything is scary.

True vulnerability is terrifying. Yet allowing yourself to be vulnerable is the only path to experiencing anything worth experiencing in life; love, heartbreak, joy, sadness, success, failure - beautiful complex emotions. Neither bad nor good but worth living. Worth feeling.

Check out this AMAZING Ted Talks video about "The Power Of Vulnerability" if you still don't get what I mean. It will change your perspective completely. Change your life if you let it.

Indulge in the cliche of this holiday if you want, I know I have and did a little today, but now I’d rather invite all of you openly share your praises, affection and appreciation for the ones you love in your life, randomly, heck, why not all the time? Not just on a particular day where it’s traditional to do so.

So enjoy. Feel free to share with loved ones. Feel free to be inspired to write your own personal love poem by reading one of mine. I’d feel honored if my work evoked such inspiration.

I Want To Make Love To Your Mind

I want you so badly I can barely stand it

Lip to lip

Mouth to mouth

The very body part that helps us to speak and breath also helps us to connect with another human being

To taste their thoughts and smell their worry

But how can I let you inside me when I haven’t let you inside my heart yet?

We seem to do that a lot

Open our legs more easily than our hearts

Why open our legs but not our mouths?

Kiss, touch, lick, breath - no problem

You can’t stop the flow - the loudness of it all

But to speak truth, our mind, our past – silence

We can literally become part of another person, even if just for a moment, but when it comes to communicating we are detached, distant - literally speechless

That’s stopping - now

I want to make love to your mind.

I want your words to be my foreplay until my appetite is so wet and ready for the piercing of your thoughts

Your ideas planted - seeded in my mind

I want to get pregnant with your passion

I want to conceive and carry your vulnerability in my womb until we are both ready to birth a stronger and wiser person

I want you to tantalize my neck with your whispers of dreams and hopes, desires and fears until I climax into an ecstasy of passionate enlightenment of my entire body, mind and spirit

I want you to penetrate my mind

Shake things up

Make me question, think and burn for more of your words and thoughts until I’m begging you to stop from the convulsions of my brain because I can’t take the intensity any longer

Can our minds make love where our ideas build and we raise our voices higher and higher until we are both shouting at the top of our lungs in one huge orgasmic breath because we can barely get the thoughts out fast enough?

Until our words and thoughts ignite and explode because of the electricity of sparks bouncing back and forth from your mind to mine

With each word I’m turned on. I want to go. Right then and there. I’m ready.

To debate. To discuss. To argue and disagree, to challenge and question, to understand and relate in a fit of fiery passionate until we are finishing each other’s sentences

Until I can taste your words on top of mine and with each swallow your love, your ideas, your beliefs, your thoughts, slide within me to rest here safely in my heart

I want each facet of my mind to be stimulated and awakened by your unique ideas, your humor and kindness

I want to comeeeeeeeee forth and make myself known through my words to you

I want to make love to your mind. Are you ready to make love to mine?

Is your mind ready?

Opposing Magnets

If opposites attract
Then I am so attracted to you
Like two magnets
Pushing and pulling at each other every which way
Back and forth
Up and down
Go –- Stop
Slow –- Fast
More –- Less
Just confess that you love this little game of hot and cold as much as I do
It’s exciting
And real
Where we can both just be

My loudness fills your silence
My friendly bounce brings your shyness into focus
My crazy head swirling with paranoid, preposterous thoughts is brought back from orbit by your logic and balance
I nurture your awkwardness as I feel a grounded sense of being next to your
Present moment oh so clear
How can you be the only person - thing in the world that brings me back to earth?
Brings me back to NOW
This place
With you