Tuesday, February 12, 2019
Remember me as we leave the shores of yesterday behind.
Please don’t forget me and I won’t forget you.
As we travel to different zones and see different faces,
promise you’ll remember me and my vision
To create beauty with the pens in my hands–
beauty in books that travel with people no matter the age, gender, or color.
Keep my words of encouragement and comradery in your heart.
Remember the times I sighed and cried with you.
I promise never to forget the times our fingers intertwined…
Or the ways you spoke of taking your entrepreneurial spirit to the big city.
Nor shall I forget you taking on the world with your voice
that could make a baby coo like a dove or adults wobble like an earthquake.
Let’s never forget each other as we conclude college
and our lives commence tomorrow…
Tuesday, January 22, 2019
“Care about what other people think and you will always be their prisoner” –Lao Tzu
I don’t need your permission or approval.
Just because you strut around with multiple awards
under your belt doesn’t make you the Queen of England.
Your feedback was not the Bible or Holy Grail.
You’re neither a god nor congresswoman for writing.
I turn my back on your condescending looks and criticism
that ran through my body like bullets.
I don’t owe you anything because you hardly did anything for me–
Except make me feel like a loser,
You almost convinced me to burn my notebooks and pens
and leave the writing business for good.
But I refuse to leave…
and I don’t need your approval or permission to be a writer.
Can an artist truly change the waves?
Will my words mean anything to anyone
especially after God calls me home?
Will me or my work mean anything to people when I’m gone?
I don’t know.
Maybe I wasn’t meant to know.
Maybe artists aren’t supposed to see the impact of their work on others.
It overflows their egos like water when it rises out of a bucket.
Their heads swell to that of a hot-air balloon.
The world needs art along with solutions
and people to nurture it in these smog-filled
icecap melting times.
At the end of the day,
I can only pray that my words touch others–
to cumulate feelings of joy, laughter, thoughtfulness
and maybe even a hint of newfound faith in Jesus Christ.
Will my art matter after I’m gone?
It’s plausible and also preposterous.
Wednesday, January 9, 2019
Perfection is an illusion.
Reaching for perfection is
reaching for the brightest star
in the entire night sky–futile.
Only God is perfect.
He made me perfectly imperfect.
A spirit with a sinful shell.
If everyone was perfect,
we’d all be the same and nothing
would make us individually unique.
Perfection is the number one enemy
of individuality. If perfection were
given to humans there would be no
Jay-Z or Eminem,
no Denzel Washington,
J.K. Rowling or Beyoncé,
no Matt Groening,
Michelle or Barack,
Michael Jackson or Prince,
no Langston Hughes, Robert Frost,
Emily Dickinson, Ellen DeGeneres,
or Angelina Jolie.
Individuality molds us.
Mistakes help us grow while perfection
keeps us at a constant rate–
How can we find ourselves if we don’t
know what we’re good at and what we fail at?
Perfection is the number one enemy of individuality.
Wednesday, January 2, 2019
Our friendship is a frozen see-saw–
you go up, but I stay down.
Seeing you is like seeing Big Foot.
You know he exists, but it’s
rare when you see him.
When we make plans,
you’re ready to set sail.
But when the boat takes off,
you jump overboard and swim
back to shore.
Do I bore you?
Our friendship is a bipolar shapeshifter.
You’re hot then you’re cold like Katy Perry.
I’m not perfect either,
I’m not perfect either,
but if I said I was your friend,
I’d mean it 100 percent.
I’m not ashamed of you–
But maybe you’re ashamed of me…
At one point, I wanted to tell you sayonara
But I thought that was too harsh.
But do you know what’s really harsh?
Always arranging activities for us to do
or places to go like I’m a party planner.
(You know I hate parties!).
It’s rare when you suggest things–
Heck, just taking a drive around the neighborhood
and talking is fine enough.
We never run out of things to say–
from our favorite classic movies like The Godfather
to sulking about the Broncos not making the Super Bowl–
How is it that I can wish you a happy birthday,
but you can’t remember mine?
This complex shapeshifting friendship is exhausting.
I better get off this see-saw quick
or I’ll never know what it’s like to be up.
Hanging in the dark purple night sits a crescent moon–
Above the shimmering lights of the nearest Wal-Mart,
Dairy Queen, Dollar Tree and Home Depot–
She hangs as either a grin or laugh illuminating the night
filled with planes, itsy-bitsy stars and a few drifting clouds–
This crescent moon sheds her light onto the open valley
of weeds as big as shrubs and dirt as gritty as desert sand.
A crescent moon sits over the half-lit night–
above zooming cars, trucks and buses.
People inhabit these vehicles without even so much as
raising their brows at this illuminating yellow croissant in the sky.
The moon could have chosen to show her full round face–
but she decided to give a grin/chuckle on this cool night.
She only guides pedestrians who use their feet as transportation.
Saturday, September 29, 2018
A woman who isn’t afraid to break her nails
or mess up her hair to get the job done.
There’s nothing wrong with a woman being girly,
but can she withstand the hurricane?
Can she keep your head up as well as her self esteem?
Can she be independent without fully hating the male species?
Strong women remain standing after taking life’s blows.
A strong woman and a strong man form a solid bond.
If a strong woman falls, she doesn’t hesitate to rise again.
A strong woman doesn’t wait to be saved.
She saves herself and defeats her foes without mercy.
A strong woman is the woman for me.
Wonder Woman, Michelle Obama, Oprah,
Beyoncé, Lisa Simpson, Maya Angelou
And my own mom are all lodestars of strong women
whom I look up to.