He pulled up. Driving her car. Cool as a cucumber. No long explanations. I got in the back seat. We went to his dad's place. He put a record on. Smiled at me. Softened his eyes. I froze with desire. Stared at his lips. The jazz was good. Horns filled my ears. The second hand paused. Moments too short. He left the room. Now time to go. Hurt and confused. Still wanting more. My heart sank fast. It waxed the floor.
Writing poetry is like breathing. It comes naturally to me, and I'm ever grateful for this gift. It's incredible because I've been writing for over two decades now. I wrote my first poem in kindergarden!
Over the years, I've met people from all over the world, and remarkably, there is a simple common denominator: human emotions. Whether I'm having coffee with a friend in London or Stockholm, the bravado of emotions are the same: hurt feelings, the pain of rejection, the grief of a loved one, the anger of social injustice, the excitement of politics, and the frustration of religion. I get this.
Through my poetry, I want to give voice to these precious emotions; I want to be a "voice crying out in the wilderness," connecting deeply to people's hearts, bringing an ever-lasting message of hope, faith and love.
That's what I'm all about.
So let my poems speak to you in a fresh, provocative way.
Enjoy the blog!