Truth in love. I wait for you Not very patient Confused, battered, Ramming my way along.
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All articles filed in Poetry
She Knows
God is present in the dark. I remember reading this in scripture – something about the darkness being as light to God. Like her, you were in the darkness before you were in the light. I watch her – this tiny human who tests the limits of her independence. This tiny human who tests the…
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The Evidence Is In
I am done proving me. My life is not one prolonged job interview, a permanent Olympic trial, an ongoing all-state music audition. I am not a college application for admissions officials to peruse, an employee scrutinized for business acumen or her annual performance review, an associate striving to make partner. I refuse to be
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Desperation
Desperation is a sliding tear A world abounding with hounds and fear It is a question that scalds your soul Temptation that comes too high a toll
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Lit
The light has faded out of my eyes Where it once burned alive Until a series of moments I wouldn’t want Made me live them.
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How To Kill A Mexican
Joke to him and to me he’s there she’s not seen I’ll tell you the stories of eyes not blue here in your backyard You know I am You’re here in my driveway This is my land
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Grief
A shell, her home so brutally shattered — maroons a tender soul adrift in open water. Cold. Afraid. And self-protection makes an unwilling warrior. A noble mother. Sword unsheathed. And broken hearts make an unyielding will. She battles sorrow and joy and birth and death, all that is vital. Captures all of them, (save the…
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(Un)Barren
Barren was the name given me at birth (Named after Hannah in the Bible) And by the fertility doctors (Unexplained causes) So many voices (Where is mine?)
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Permissions of Breath
What happens to the heart when the walls come closing in? When the thunder makes one hide amidst the shadows? Just breathe. Give yourself permission to just…simply…breathe.
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Dreams Don’t Die with Motherhood
A little notebook sits on the back, left corner of a small, brown table in the tiny kitchen of my cottage on the Dutch Caribbean Island of Saba. No matter how many times I spray and wipe down the wooden surface, a thin film of “too many chaotic dinners” remains. I reach for this journal,…
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