Penmanship 003
Let the dust fill you, let the smoke be your meal. In the dark, on empty, everything becomes real.
722: Old Words from Passed Years
"Daddy passed away on November 2nd. I thought I was all right, but this week I haven't gone to school. Next week will be better."
Coming: An excerpt from Porridge: A Memoir
Trinkets dance as the days roll along. The leaves fall to the ground, Damp and deteriorated Waiting for the winter. The girls ask what vixen I will become But all I think of is the vixen I've been as the third year approaches. It's like Christmas and less like Halloween. New gifts opened and the... Continue Reading →
Haircut: An excerpt from Porridge: A Memoir
Haircut I conquered a fear today, Sitting in a barber’s chair. Amongst pink walls and shanti style, With reggae playing behind my head. The shears pulsed against my skin, Cutting away masks of perfection. Clip, clip, clip. My hair falls to the ground. And I remember that day in the shower, Where my hair fell... Continue Reading →
Mystic: An excerpt from Porridge: A Memoir
A friend of mine was a cancer patient and nearly kissed death. I ask her about her journey, and her scars. And she smiles willingly to share, her experiences. She doesn't drink nor smoke. And never will. But I do. I bought my first pack on Saturday, smoked five and woke up still drink on... Continue Reading →
Skin: A Excerpt from Porridge: A Memoir
Skin Tattered and pulled Too tight Too loose. My skin, Scarred and ruined And wounded. Saddened and angered By my life By my choices. These ungodly marks I stare at in the mirror- Remind me Of the journey I’ve led, Of the purple path I choose When everything was blue. Of the bowls I pushed... Continue Reading →
Grab a Bowl
This one is for me. Because I deserve at least one. l/r
Gallery: An Excerpt from Porridge: A Memoir
Gallery These images cut and cradled, From points of the past, Betray the grace of Time. Underneath each photograph the poet Writes And remembers The beautiful people who took his breath away. Black and white, Sometimes in colour, His messy hand makes the words hard to read. There is something so intimate about penmanship, The... Continue Reading →
Grab a Bowl
I'm whipping up something magical for you. l/r
Grab a Bowl
I HAVE INTERNET. I have since Monday, but I'm making a post tonight. I think next week I'll start from the beginning; Before my dad died, high school, friends and all. This originally began as an exercise for me, simply to get feedback on the writing, but I've received such amazing responses that I think... Continue Reading →
Famous Last Words 