the unseen spectrum

i am more than the words i speak or write. more than what you see. i am the unseen and unheard ends of the spectrum. i am the invisible that exists, not needing eyes or ears to simply be. i too require instruments…

the witch of the aegean sea

I want to tell you a story about a short stout woman who lived on the island of Lemnos in the Aegean Sea. She fished barefoot next to her shadow just before the sun found her copper face and presented her to the…


Chrysalis i wrap myself inside myself i grow i changei emergei fly

into my soul

I knew from the day I met you, that every inch of you would be carved into my soul. Writing Prompt: Carve

turn to stone

If I don’t begin posting to my blog daily, I will turn to stone. It’s true. I read it in a book.

marcus garvey’s house atop a hill

I had not been home to Jamaica in over a decade. In August 2015 I took a trip, and while there, visited Marcus Garvey’s house, which still stands atop a small hill, with the same ginep tree that was there when he was…

in elysium

Your whispers reach me across time. They find me standing on the edge of awakening. My dreams leave, then your dreams ask to enter the space of love that eases our pain. We go together, warriors of love, into the fields of Elysium.…

feeling jolly, maybe

It snowed last night. This morning the sky was clear and the snow bright. While I do feel a sense of jolly when I look at the blanket of white, I continue to wish that snow weren’t so cold. I know, to achieve…

i built a story

I built a story that was tall and wide, stretching across miles of land like the Great Wall of China. I did not use brick or stone or plastic or metal or wood. I used the purple haze of stardust, sprinkled on sea…

hate speech vs my mighty voice

Mighty Voices Rise I don’t give two damns about “hate speech” against me, a brown woman. Not two. I have a mighty voice and know how to defend myself against words meant to cut my soul. What I care a lot about is…


i am unfurled unwrapped by life’s hardships, joys and mysteries. without understanding why, i have lived without a name.   Unfurl

mortal words

i’ve decided that i don’t want to write, not with my hands anyway. i want to think words onto paper and screens and leaves and stones and skies. i want words to fall onto the sand and clay soil, carved into ice and…

i am the stream…

i am the stream… of consciousness. it is 2:38pm, monday, the In The Beginning day of the week august 14. twenty seventeen, whatever that means it is the day when i want to forget the days and seconds and step into infinity, the…

save words

i will save words for you. bottled and pickled words for you. then feed you synonyms of me, so you will always remember my taste. i will flavor your life until all your tongue remembers is what it is was like to come…to…

satchel of poems

I had a satchel filled with poems that I tossed into the sea. I wrote them on tiny circles and squares and rectangles woven with jute, some in permanent gold ink, others lovingly stitched on over the course of many sunrises and sunsets.…

ink spill

I spilled ink across the blank pages of my notebook. It was then that I decided to write stories with my fingers.

the words spill

The words spill from my pen, blood red, no longer wanting to be ink, but to be life. The words follow me into my dreams. There, I am sky bound. Landing is a matter of chance.


We all seek freedom in one way or another. But in the end, we live in an age where none of us know what true freedom feels like. We’ve never lived it beyond our mind and flowering imagination. Although I don’t know what…

i hide

i hide inside myself, in the dark corners of memory, in the light of a thousand what-could-have-beens.

existence remembered

The words leave, drifting atop my misconceptions. I am looking backwards. Why did we come here? Was it only to see if being human was a strange fad, something new for our soul to do? Or was it something real and lasting and…



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