Is it Me?

Is it Me?

Is it me
or did life get harder
when I turned eighteen?

Did the games we play
turn into nightmares?
Those doll house
turning into true horror houses.
Who knew
that the fun would end
and to survive we would have to bend
to uncompromising wind?

Though there were childhood horrors
they pale against the terror
of fighting untold torchbearers.

Did our daily bread transform
into a rocks
too hard to chew 
and deadly to consume?

Is it me
or does it seem
that finding the sun
means fighting the rain
so I can see again?

Stop Cutting Onions

Stop Cutting Onions

No it's not that I'm crying
it's just that my eyes are sweating.
What miracle- or curse- is this 
that I have this waterworks condition.
No her pain is not the cause 
of the water that you see
it's not the news of her passing
it's the onions you see.
Who said the purple ones
were sweet and would not attack,
my dear
they are the most vicious
of the lot!
I think I will take a break
go and lie down
the burden of their juice
is too great.
If I stay a while longer I might drown.

Hurt people Hurt

Hurt people Hurt

i am not a toy
you can play with
when i displease you
you cannot put me away
when you need me
you cannot then
pick me back up
i am not here for your pleasure
to dance and shift
as your whim fancies
i'm not here today
and gone tomorrow
like a figment of your imagination
i am not a pet project
a hobby
that bears the essence of a novelty
to wish me dead
because i harmed you
and to lift me up when i please you
i am not your mirror
to reflect what you need to see
your voice that soothes your ego
your pleasure is not my pain
so i will not claim it
you cannot know me
because you have not earned that right
my i will become my I
now hear me!

did you hear me?

Yes.
To divest from selfish to self-less
I  peeked into hell
and as I did
I looked deeply
too deeply
and saw carnage
some created by me.

Let’s Reciprocate

Let's Reciprocate  

you have your plans
and I've got mine
don't expect them to align
all the time,
just don't see me and mine
as your dime.
Take what I can give 
and be satisfied
just walk your walk
look at you
and let me carry this burden
but let it not be a burden for two.
take your time to figure you out
but while you're at it
do not devalue my worth!
lean on me 
when you're not strong
but let's reciprocate
cause only a one side lean  
could be seen as hate.
so though we can grow and blossom together
let me tend to me and prune me 
while you do you sometimes
from time to time or whenever.

Wanderlust

Wanderlust

The itch comes upon me frequently.
With great urgency my pulse beats a steady tattoo.
I sit still - 
or try to - 
but nothing really works.

I move here and there
within the space I'm meant to
but nothing really matters.
I know I have responsibilities
but they were not mine to choose.
Each moment ticks by
and with it I lie - 
it doesn't really matter.

But can I, 
put my feet outside
step out to an other side
that will fit my outsized frame?

Yet now,
behind these bars I look
longingly,
desperately,
and try to lift these weary feet.

I’m Still Blessed.

I'm Still Blessed


I wade in wader almost to my head
I'm still blessed.
I walk bare on these embers 
I'm still blessed.
Frost bites on top of frost bites
I'm still blessed.
My tears grow each day uncountable
I'm still blessed.
Grief stuck a blade deep in my heart
I'm still blessed.
I crawl across deserts unable to walk
I'm still blessed.
My eyes gorged out by injustices
I'm still blessed.
slowly I bleed out everywhere
I'm still blessed.
mutilated for my humanity
I'm still blessed.
In chains I must rise daily
I'm still blessed.
Thrown over cliffs to swim or sink
I'm still blessed.
Into an empty I've been caste
I'm still blessed.
Left to starve on my own bile
I'm still blessed.

My anchor holds me down
the sun still rises in the east each morning
My tremulous heart still beats
A light guides me
comes out of me
and tells me
you still have a reason
you're still blessed.

So…I wrote a Book.

When I was a child and asked what I wanted to be, I chose the most popular at the time. I wanted to be a nurse, a teacher, a doctor, a lawyer. Then when I got older I wanted a glamourous job, a flight attendant (at least it was marketed as glamourous), super model (though I barely reached past five feet), an actress (though I never joined drama club), a singer (though I did not develop on my natural singing voice). Then I wanted something related to the subject I loved, I wanted to do journalism, travel the world and write about these places. Then I went to university and wanted to be whatever could pay for my student loans.

So, I ended being a teacher and have been doing this ever since. Along the way I have been inspired to write for different reasons and seasons. I write when I am happy, sad and mad. When I think I have something to say and when I know I have nothing to say but want to get out what is in me before it explodes from me. Writing has been something I have always done. Being the only child in a household of adults, great grand parents to be exact, I really did not have much option. I use to read four books in one day, write in my diary every day and read every box, bag, tube or bottle with words on it. Writing has always been my friend.

So when life throws something at me I have to write it down but in my own way. I had to tell my stories as I saw fit and poetry was the most beautiful way I could.

So I wrote and published a poetry book with poems that I have been writing for over ten years. Over the years I had promised myself I would write a book, but it was not gonna be a poetry book. It was gonna be novels like the one Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie wrote or Toni Morrison or Edwidge Danticat or Jamaica Kincaid. However, all I ended up writing were my poetries. I would read them to myself and be amazed that I wrote them. But that was all.

Then people saw them and told me I should publish them and I was mystified as to what they saw that gave them the idea that I could write anything great enough to be published. Then, much later, I realized that I was only finding excuses not to try. Excuses based on my own insecurities.

So this year I finally found the courage – with the support of some great people and dear friends – to learn more and grow, to put myself and my work out there and leave it there. I have a long way to go but this book is the step I needed to get out of my head.