2013 Bucket List

beautiful, the more i read such blogs, the more i realize it will be easy to sky dive, and learn how to say hello, thank you and good bye in 25 languages at 25. living can be such a wonderful experience..


Marriage, the poem


All That Chatter

Marriage is a delicate dance of give and take
It’s more than finding a suitable mate
It’s love
It’s friendship
It’s work
It’s silence
It’s talking
It’s thinking
It’s taking a walk
It’s not ridicule
It’s not selfish
It’s not all about you
It’s sharing
It’s laughing
It’s crying sometimes
It may create frustration
or anger
but it’s also forgiveness
Marriage is commitment
It’s prayer
It’s I really like you
It’s work
It’s play
It’s not just today
It’s a future
It’s them
It’s together
It’s worth it

View original post

and you say i am a poet

Last night i did a very touchy piece at the writers workshop. I need to mention, this piece was inspired by a post i met on face book, a status rather, reading..”POETS ARE COOL”.I loved the compliment, but one of the comments said, and they are WEIRD and ooh i loved it even. But i was interested in the meaning of weird.  You see, i have been at this for years now, but people still ask me at all poetry shows if im there as AUDIENCE or as a POET especially in bigger events just because i dont wear natural print cloth, or rocking a natural hair trait they say.(I dont know if anyone has ever experienced it, especially as a female poet). But i have to say, its not what makes me A POET and im coool like that.


WE DO NOT EAT PENCILS, AND YES we dont hate wigs or artificial nails either..I too am human, i am a girl, and i have feelings..I am cool, and WEIRD too and i love it too..


I have tasted handfuls of salty tears and

Armfuls of smiles, begging me to keep dancing

To the melody of my words

I am many shadows of complexity,

trapped in a nervous soul hanging in there,

in here,

between these rib cages and my lungs

some where.. yearning, fighting,

Seeking, learning answers to your

Earthly concerns, etched painfully across my heart

And.. You say

I am a poet,

You think I hug trees,

and whisper to the skies chasing dreams,

 and sometimes you ask me

If I save lost butterflies too

Or bite my pencils or play piano

And sleep with books under my pillow

in that printed cloth and natural hair

Because I am a poet?

I evade, avoid and travel in lonesome feelings

Bottled beneath layers of my skin and

Each time I stand tall at the podium,

I feel my lungs compress, gathering like rain clouds

forcing sad truths through corners of my curled lips,

 that each time I breath these sighs and cries

They sound like beautiful melody

And you will be smiling,

Telling me I am a poet,


At times I need a hug, I need a hand shake

a kiss on the forehead and a bucket of flowers

because I am a girl,

 and I am human too but you

You said I am a poet.


So I escape the music of the soles of your feet coming home,

And I would tune into beats of my pens push,

dancing on flat paper, because here..

it feels safe, it feels real, it feels like home.

So you try to sentence me to the life

Of sentences because I live for paper

And you tell me to write about it because

You said I am a poet.


Don’t push me to write.

It wont speak to me, it wont hold me when I fall,

And i wont either

I would rather let you wipe of my tears,

smell the urgency of my dreams

And share a cup of coffee with me,

So don’t force me to write about stuff

When I tell you im hurting,

im brusing,

im aching..