“seed” | a journal entry on writing “the vowel on my tongue” 🌿 — I️ developed the courage to step into myself. The courage to embark on a quest towards my inner being. Though these steps were stuttered and slow in pace, I️ took them nonetheless. The steps towards unpacking some of my most heart-stirring moments in life. Some of the moments when I️ found myself beneath my own feet. I️ stepped into myself, courageously, to water the seed of my being. And so the seed grows • my poetry book “the vowel on my tongue” is now available at the link in my bio • photo captured by the beautifully talented @majikmilk 🌼 sending you all love and light ✨
Will be taking a hiatus for a while. Need some time to remember why I do this in the first place...🖤 I’ll post updates on cool things that I’m part of though...ok—buenas noches 🚬who am I even talking to at this point?
Words meander like narcissistic navigators
Full of themselves and attention deficit destinations
I drop the helm and map a maze of prior shore leaves
The circle pleasing to the mind
Round and around
Oh we've been here before
My deviant little desires
Insidious in cowardice
Pretending to be brave
Leading the way
Charting courses just the right depth and width
To declare themselves Magellan
Claiming Cape Horn but a myth
And Drake a madman
Oh how clever we are in our verse
My determined little devils
Hiding behind false intellect
Clinging to never far from shore
Rather than face the calamity
Of greeting oceans and Kracken
Safe phrases and pronouns
So as not to trigger angry waters
My how we have dug our own trench
Stumbling across ourselves
Our mumbling in every person
Suckling off the genius teet of predictability
I should dress you all in black and white
Then throw you to the Orcas
But even they have grown tired of plastic
Of man-made paradigms
The constructions of belief systems
Based on a foundation of consumerism
And lies we tell one another
Whales starve along the currents of dreams
While in the the Sea of Hoces
Their brethren feast on the exotic cornucopia of Tierra del Feugo
Wishing only to be albatross or giant petral
Soaring on the tailwind of roaring forties
On my wearisome words
Would I have none to do with you
But man bilge pumps when taking on water
You will no longer navigate
Nor speak to me of common constellations
I cast you below decks
Restricted to quarters
To all who entered the Ready Aim Fire giveaway yesterday: thank you so very much from the bottom of my heart. Your entries filled my heart- with light, with warmth, with hope. You all bring so much light, so much kindness and goodness, into this world. I hope you know how incredibly special you all are. 💕
Without further ado, I am so happy to announce the winner of yesterday’s giveaway: @darko_donnie10! I will be in touch with you shortly.
I have another #MakeYourLight giveaway planned for next month! And perhaps some smaller ones that may take place sooner. So keep your eyes out! And once again, thank you all so, so much for all of your thoughtful contributions. The light you give shines far. Thank you for sharing it. ✨
📷: @rainepoetry (thank you so much for this gorgeous photo!)
Afterlife has been out for nearly 6 months. It is ridiculous how fast time has went by. I’ve met so many wonderful people in the poetry community. Seeing how Afterlife has moved people is an incredible feeling. I’ve also learned so much as a writer and indie author. What I’ve learned from all of this is to write from your heart and progress yourself at your own pace. But the main thing, POETRY IS THE FUCKING BEST. 🖤
The universe works in wonderful ways. Winston Aarons is a published writer and professor at OSS. My intro to fiction professor told me about him a year ago, but he was traveling in Europe at the time and eventually life goes on and i didn’t reach out. Capital One Cafe and I partnered to host a poetry night a couple months ago and Winston performed. I ran over, introduced myself and we connected. He has since read #2 and we spent time reviewing her this morning. I’m excited to return to her with what we discussed in mind, and absolutely can’t wait until you all read her :)
Alright my loves, I’m hosting a poetry reading and you should come listen to some sick poets help you end the year right! Hit me up if you have any questions. STARTS AT 8 P.M.— I’m excited as fuck to see you there 🖤
New Orleans rapper Dee-1 and I go back a few years and have become like family. He just dropped a new album and just announced his tour. The Slingshot David (the album) Tour is coming to my neck of the woods, Boston, and near by NYC and to my brother's neigborhood in Omaha, Nebraska and probably in YOUR city too. Dee-1 became a source of hope and inspiration to me when I met him because he is 💯 when it comes to being Real, Righteous and Relevant. He has prayed for me and my family, he has connected with me on spiritual issues and has even walked me to my car after a show so I wouldn't have to walk alone. He calls me "moms" on social media and has honored me as such at his shows. I am so proud of this young man of God that I am promoting his album and tour here on my writing page. Look for him on all streaming sites, and check out his page : missionvisionlifestyle.com or go to the link on my other page @missionvision116
I love you @dee1music !!!
Somewhere outside Roswell Princess laid into me.
"What did you do?"
"Why couldn't I at least do my hair?"
Cruising a conservative 95 mph, I answered. "Sugar you don't need to know."
But she did. And the more I said, the more she squirmed. Her heaves driving me wild. My morning instincts revised. Faster and faster, she smiled and feigned indignation. Soon enough her panties lay on the floorboard with one leg on the head rest.
"You like daddy?"
And I liked, swerving all over the 380. "Baby show me how much you love me." I played with the patch of hair above her fingers.
"Tell me you fucking love me Sidney."
And in that moment I loved her like any man ever loved a woman. The teasing, the pleading, the flash of pink, the heat. The scent of vinyl bench and sweat in the seat.
"Tell me again how you woke up early to clean up our mess," she was insatiable.
I spoke of bats in the early morning hour. Of wiping slates clean and the minimalness of blood. Crossed eyes and unfortunate circumstances. Princess screamed the melodies of at least three endings before I pulled off a dirty side road to nowhere. Screeching to park I was in her face on the passenger side of the Chevelle in a flash of need and teased angst.
"He squirmed and tremored," I whispered, my lips moving against hers with hushed closeness. "He fucking tremored as your legs do now." I plunged my mouth onto the ache of her lips. Her back arched in tandem to the devour of her neck. I've never known sighs like the quiver of her twisted desire. I've never been met with such happy hips. And the more I told her it was all for her, all for us, the more she bucked pleasure. I've never hooted with more glee in this life prior. Never heard the echo of a lover crescendo with the hell in my heart like the day I took her in the front of the Chevelle along that dusty dirt road.
And I thought to myself,
This must be love.
All messages are deleted.
I am not fooling around with my time here on earth. I have a mission and a purpose and TODAY I declare I am not waiting around nor playing around with messaging- not with anyone. .
Listen, if I have something to say to you, I will say it. Likewise, if you have something to say, feel free to message me or call me. But I am FINISHED with being an emotional hostage to the messaging method of communication. .
I will no longer feel like I owe anyone a reply. I will no longer check to see if I owe anyone anything. And this is what prompted this entire post- I will NO LONGER carry my phone waiting for a response to my messages. .
I'm DONE. Call me. Just pick up the damn phone and call me. Leave a message. And don't wait for me. I am not dealing with messaging any more. .
Life is BEAUTIFUL!! I intend to look away from this damn phone screen! It is stealing my joy.