come down to the bottom
of the staircase and let me
see you as purple as
you’ve ever been you
smile and tell me to
stop taking pictures

you care
too much
so do i

home is all there is
we say we toast &
smile and sip juice
’cause champagne
is not our style
you show me
and i listen
then time is
like honey &
all the sugar
and all the
woman i ever
thought i

a sister-friend
a reflection
of me

(inspired by alice walker’s the color purple)

so much has changed

so much has changed and your little hands are still firmly planted on the desktop because you were born to be here and your brown skin still rests elegantly under the filtered sun. you are the person i come back to because you are invisible to any eye but my own and i can sort of slip into you without ever being noticed, without an eye of scowl or interest. and so much has changed that i didn’t recognize you because you cut your hair and… and its low but it fits you well because you always had that look about you. you know, that look that keeps bullshit by the back door. you know, that silver string of feline femininity and you always bark before biting because the blood is instinctual to you and the feeling is inseparable. and you know, you’re kind of a mess and you’re bending all out of place for people that don’t need your answers, and quite frankly never asked for them. but that’s you baby bird, always in the mix of some shit – trying and flying and drifting apart but you, you take me back. and you’ve always taken me back to jessamy moons and kermes skies. and you wrap me in your arms like some old poem by wallace stevens and i can’t quite see your face because you’re so close to me but i know its you and its home, like i sprouted from you, like you, a woman of wild paths and sprouting nature were born for me. for you are the me i wish to be and in this body we will shape the rest of the way because so much has changed


first week of freelance life

  • ordered my Passion Planner
  • started back using notecards to prioritize assignments/pieces
  • still getting used to my desk space
  • realizing i need more storage
  • went for a nice morning walk, today
  • claimed two writing orders
  • submitted trial article for Taste Tablet
  • reading essays and poetry on the Offing
  • listening to nice, bouncy jazz
  • learning the quirks of being my own boss

today marks the second day of my life as a freelance writer. lots has changed in just a couple of days. i still wake up rather early in the morning but instead of slipping into some slacks and a collared-shirt, i throw on some sweatpants, read a lil’ bit of news and commence to write! there’s an abundance of freedom in having the ability to choose and i’m so glad i chose this route.

happy writing from my desk to yours!



Thanks to Putting the Dog to Sleep for the Liebster Award nomination!! Always wanted to do something like this! By the way, I’ve been reading Andrea Gibson non-stop since I read your post, so thank you for that as well!


  1. Link back to the person who nominated you
  2. Answer the questions given to you by the nominator
  3. Nominate up to 11 other bloggers with less than 200 followers
  4. Create 11 questions for the nominees


Question 1: Did you have an imaginary friend? What was (s)he like? She was like me. Just like me. Down to my little brown plaits and chunky thighs. I was probably about 3 or 4. She would sit down on my little, yellow, plastic chair and have tea with me. Oh, she was the sweetest thing ever. Very emotional and observing of everything around her. Sometimes when I look at old pictures of me alone, playing with toys or having tea, I think of her and cry. She left me some years ago and never really came back.

Question 2: Something you’ve never told anyone before. I applied to be an Associate Editor with OWN (Oprah Winfrey Network) and I feel hesitant about going for a position that’s probably a little out of my league at this point in my writing career. But I sort of feel like I’m at the peak of my persistence. Nothing is standing in my way, especially not little ol’ fear.

Question 3: Describe in detail your favourite place in the world (even if it doesn’t exist anymore). The pretty little spot inside of my head where there’s soft light and open windows and tangerines and calm shades of blue on the wall and cinnamon on my finger tips and the love of art lying peacefully in my palms. The place where I feel the fullness of my spirit.

Question 4: Your favourite songs at the moment 1. For Them by Emily King 2. Over My Head by Alabama Shakes 3. I’m The Only Woman by Mary J. Blige 4. The Wire by Allen Stone 5. 6 Trouble Man by Marvin Gaye

Question 5: Describe a friend you have lost. A short, Hershey-skinned girl. Her name was Jarva. We met at T. D. Marshall Elementary. Right up the street from my house. She was kind’a serious looking now that I remember but then I recall her smile; hugest crescent you would have ever seen. Bright white teeth and little black lips. She wore pink a lot, I think. Her hair was black ‘cause I remember the sun would sort of make the strands on her head glimmer. My memory is a bit nebulous but I’ll never really forget this one morning we thought we’d just hang out outside the school before we went in. You know, just catch up a minute. (LOL’ing now that I look back on it). We were maybe 5 or 6. We went outside, sitting under the U.S. or Texas flag, eating candy. I think it was fruity because that’s what I liked back then. Little fruit candy. We thought everything was fine though. We thought it’s perfectly alright that we were chilling outside in the grass on a cloudless day. That’s what kids do, right? We were found by the principal, I think. I recall going into the building and feeling really confused. Like, I had done something terrible. My stomach started churning, and I don’t remember why exactly but now that I look back on it, it was probably some psychosomatic symptom because I’m a super sensitive person, always have been. But yea, that day didn’t end well and my parents were really upset and angry about it. it was really unpredictable and unnerving for me, as a young kid. And when I think more I think, “damn, that was my first real experience of the kind of rules and lines I would have to abide by as I grew into myself.” Kids, right. Hilarious little creatures, we were. Always laughing and talking and thinking and then another school and another city and another apartment swooshed down on our little world.

Question 6: How many times have you been in love? Were you grateful for each? 3. Of course, every, single relationship was designed to teach me a specific lesson. The first taught me the power of thinking on my own and letting go of naïveté. The second taught me that communication is the only way a relationship will remain fulfilling and comfortable. The third, and current, is teaching me all sorts of things in the most surreal ways. But it’s been a beautiful ride thus far. All of these partnerships have been pivotal moments of my young life.

Question7: What was (the latest) thing you really wanted to tell someone but were scared to? That I quit my day-job as an administrative assistant at a really great non-profit organization to follow my dreams of becoming a full-time freelance writer.

Question 8: What is your favourite memory? Describe it in detail: Professor Friedman’s class. The whole semester in her creative writing (non-fiction) course was so monumental for me as a young writer and a creative mind. I remember the class enjoyed hearing my work and always had really positive and personal comments about it. The class was a symbolic affirmation that I have to push forward with my passion by any means necessary.

I remember quite distinctly, coming into class and Professor Friedman asked us all to write descriptions for 15 minutes. Didn’t matter how many, or how long, we were to just write. I remember as soon as she said go, my fingers started flying (man, I miss school and even more, that class). This was one of the manifestations of that writing assignment:

There’s four hundred pounds of caramel putty sinking into a queen-size mattress centered perfectly in the middle of an under-lit living room. The room smells of Frankincense and microwavable eggrolls. She shifts on the make-shift bed and her ashy ankles are revealed from the red and white sheets plastered with Betty Boop’s little body. Her lips are soft, as she kisses me on the cheek, smelling of roseate woods and sweet nothings. Her aura is that of a magical voodoo woman, unable to stand the trek of time.

Question 9: What quality makes you most dislike a person? Why do you think that is? I don’t like people who are full of themselves. People who can’t seem to ever listen to you, or even acknowledge that you’re in the place. There’s a lot of people in this world who are too stubborn in their way of selfishness that they’ve forgotten the meaning of compassion and reflection. I stay clear of people who don’t lift me in some kind of way. I prefer a positively solid foundation around me at all times.

Question 10: If you could travel back in time and teach yourself one lesson in advance, what would it be? That there is no end to the struggle. The struggle/suffering is life-long. After school, after heartaches, after self-doubt and self-defeat there is still life, and life is a b*tch sometimes… really. We have to be aware that special moments in our lives, whether good or bad, are only pit stops. All is ephemeral. Marcus Aurelius said that among other things, way back when, and made a sort of journal of all his feelings about life’s big “ideas”, titled Meditations. I believe it to be true though, every moment is temporary. So the diploma and the degree and the awards are all temporary ideas/things. The reward is the journey. The prize is knowing that you have the passion and persistence to push forward… past this world and that one; past anything ever imaginable.



  1. How do you feel about the correlation of consumption and capitalism? Do you think there are ways to detangle these two from one another?
  2. What color calms you out the most?
  3. Do you prefer getting things done in the morning or the evening?
  4. Last movie, documentary and/or tv show you enjoyed?
  5. If your natural instinct was to stare at the sun for energy, even if your ophthalmologist told you not to, would you continue to do it? Why?
  6. Do you ever wonder why God made you a human, instead of say a sequoia tree or maybe a black-eyed susan?
  7. Did you attend college? What’d you learn about yourself?
  8. How do you feel about the notion of race and race relations in the U.S.?
  9. Favorite book ever (I know, why would I do this to you)… so, let’s say top three or five?
  10. Do you enjoy your job? Why?
  11. If you had only one message to spread across the world through your writing, what would it be?

night cap

something’s in the water.
leaning toward ya’ baby.
something’s in those there
stalks of sea weed rising
toward ya’ blue scales.

something’s in the blue.
like a lovely shark on the
tip of the ankle, fear must
be resting up there. under
the pulse of life, something’s

in you, some lop-sided
beast blessing the dark
of dawn. some sharp
tick desperately

grey whisper 

there’s a whisper to my presence that makes the old ladies smile and they look up at me from time to time to tell me a quick line about the benefits of turnips, or the gardenias growing in the back, or maybe, Old Hickory, a charming bookie who likes to watch fireflies dance to the sound of his sister’s guitar. 

full of breath, they are