Reflections of a Goddess

After a short (very short) amount of deliberation, I've decided to dedicate this blog solely for the purpose of elevating poetry and poetics in an attempt to garner participation and interest. The following is an unpublished piece about Sons of Anarchy. Ode To Samcro You are rugged, wind whistled leather kuttes. That strike fear in the hearts of outsiders. But love in your locals. Dirt, conflict and time strewn into the grooves, the patches proudly  tainted with mayhem stains.  Samcro born out of unity, brotherhood rising from soldiers together in the Asian jungle. Solution simple. Don't fit into the world anymore? Create your own. You are the protective arm of Charming. Full of warmth and affectionate breezes.  The keeper of your secrets and deeds. Its heartbeat the throb of your Harleys  that flow to the green and white chain link fence.  The MC still standing,  through the passage of years, blood, wars and wildness. Some faces changing but the mark remai...

  I really didn't plan on posting this late, honest. 😉 I guess I got sidetracked with the brutality of filing my taxes, FINALLY. Now that it's out of the way, I can get back to the regular things. Last week, I went to two events - Alonzo Bodden at The Den Thursday and a regular poetry circle Saturday. I haven't seen a comedy show since I saw George Lopez at the Chicago Theatre. The Den is a much smaller venue, similar to Evanston Space but a little bigger. There's something about smaller venues that I love, maybe it's the intimacy of them. At the circle, I've been there before but last year. Now the time slot is later; 2pm to 4pm instead of Noon to 2pm. I don't mind, it makes no difference to me. As of lately, I'm really liking workshops more because they help me produce work I'd never think of if I were in the house. Open Mics give me ideas, but the workshops help me implement them before going home. We were handed a poem and told to recall a prior...

  Last night, February 23rd I went to the listed event. The host invited me and I took a lyft there and back as I usually don't venture very south or north because of public transportation. Though I'm a poet, in no way, shape or form do I consider myself a spoken word artist. So I profoundly respect anyone who is because it's difficult. Until I went to an event, I've only imagined it difficult in terms of memorizing content. But now I see it's also about summoning the deepest parts of oneself out into the atmosphere completely yet without losing oneself in the emotions they're expressing. I knew it would be great, and it was better than I've ever imagined. I see now spoken word is deeply personal, more often than not facing difficult subjects and even more difficult personal navigation of said subjects. Everyone was so good, I mean, 'blown out of the water' good. Seriously, everyone commanded the space as soon as they stood up. I don't know if I...

 As I write this post, the Sun is shining gloriously across the sky, peeking through the blinds in my living room window as I hear the intro to Mountain's "Because You Are My Friend."  The past week saw my ill with a cold that left me with just enough strength to work through  the week. Friday being the first day that I finally began to feel like myself. And I felt happy as I had two poetry workshops planned: one for each day. Alas, I didn't go Saturday because my body was  telling me to take a nap. When the alarm set for me to get up and go, my body was like,  And since I learned to listen to my body when it speaks, I didn't go. Sunday, I didn't go because mid kid called me up asking if I wanted to go to the stores with her. As my three daughters and I don't see each other often, I gladly take whatever opportunity to see them. And I have no qualms about it; I can really write anytime, and those workshops will roll around next month. So, I've behind in...

  🥱🥱🥱🥱🥱🥱🥱🥱 You know that feeling when you WANT to go back to sleep, but can't? You ignore that nagging voice in your head that's louder than you'd like it to be that says, "Get up, get up." But I only ignored it once, so I got up. Once thing I've learned the hard way, when my body talks to me I listen. Whatever it says, I do. So I got up, telling myself at least I'll get something done. Which is why I'm typing this to you right now. Laying It on Straight to My Younger Self     Flush from your soul the idea that to survive you have to be a weak sister. That’s horsefeathers! Trust in all the brainchilds that come your way. Embrace the rip-snorter moments when they arrive.   On a regular basis, immerse yourself in auras of moxie. Natch, you are a live wire and a queen. Any greenbacks you get, stash. Hug your Old Lady every chance you get. You’ll miss her terribly after she buys the farm.   Flip your wig the second...