“Love your neighbor as thyself” 

Yes, thy wealth 

Thy health 

Yes, our very own selves 

These aren’t just words

Merely verbs 

This is a call to action 

To reaction 

To fashion 

Our mentality 

To equality 

The reality is 


Cut and created in

The very image of God





Sons and daughters

Mothers and fathers 

Brothers and sisters 

Are we listening ?!

The red words in the Bible

Mean they came from His mouth

Not a suggestion 

But to do without doubt 

See, our focus is how did these people get here ?

Oh, how we have forgotten to look in the mirror.

We ask, what will they cost? 

My response : 

Probably the same blood shed death on a cross

He died for the Muslim 

He died for the “gay”

He died for the one who

Denounces His name 

There isn’t a “chosen”

A cut out

A print

That we can mass produce


And press send

He knows our very hairs

Not just the ones on your head 

But the count of the ones 

Some would rather see dead 

Than to be in this land 

Of the free 

And the brave 

Of the very same ones

His blood

Has the power to save 

Below is me actually reading it, in the dark, because I was too lazy to get up and turn a light on.



There’s this term 



To be stripped 


And Sifted

See, we’ve been tripped up 

By the things they’ve conjured up  

Held as truth 

This ban on youth 

Conspiring ruse

To quiet the muse 

I have my own way of thinking 

Heard not just seen 

Through verbs, not in memes 

Shot down when I spoke up

So I learned to choke what 

Drove us 


Me and my sister(s)

Learning to unlearn 

All the silence 



And to Unchoke

The hope

That woke

Me up to my dream 


Was thinking about how my life has opened up as I’ve opened up . Opened up about my story,  Opened up my heart to let people know me more and me know them, and ultimately Opened up my mind. 

I Was thinking on the opposite of open which is closed obviously .

So I’m thinking on all these things as I’m supposed to be in bed because I have power yoga at 830. Who wants to power through yoga at dawn? OK, it’s not technically at dawn. It is actually three hours past dawn but can’t  dawn be relative? Can’t dawn be different for everyone ?  So for me 8:30 equals dawn .

Here’s the poem I wrote when I should’ve been asleep. 


Lay low 

Away stowed 




I used to


I’ve been bruised


I made it through


I came to


I tell you

My truth 

Stay open 


And Noticing

On the regular 

Telling ya

We’re actually similar 


This is written with inspiration from Obama’s Farewell Address.


An underpin 

Not to weaken 

But sustain 


Identify as American 

A title

Not to take lightly 

But to live up to

The pursuit of real truth


That all are equal



Know our role

Pay the toll

Of putting them first

Be the church

Stake in the ground 

Not lost but found-ed

On principles

For our fellows

Red and yellow

Black and white

That all citizens be precious

In our sight 

Alright ?


Hearts softened 

Jaws droppin’

At the slightest offense 

Toward an acquaintance or friend 

Can’t decide if it’s good or its bad

To take things so personally 

On another’s behalf 

This name callin’

Such gall 

Built walls 

Now our tears fallin’

This sensitivity 

And empathy 

And “hearts burdened be”

Is what the world needs 

What I need 

To breed peace 

To set free 

A new reality 

Where walls are down 

Hate is drowned

Love is found 

We’re “home” – ward bound 


My writing process is this : 

I have a conversation with someone, think way too long and hard about it, find the teachable moment or lesson , and write about it . 
I have had three Or four such conversations today and I just keep thinking on the words, “I want to be fluent in friendship”. 

Each woman is so very different. Different triggers, hurts, pasts, current situations, divorced, single, younger, older. 

So, I guess, the bottom line for me is that in all of my relationships , I want to be fluent in being a friend that can be trusted and counted on. 

 This encompasses all of the different walks of women I encounter daily, the ones I have chosen to walk alongside and the ones that have chosen to walk alongside me. The ones that let me down, the ones that don’t. The ones that help me grow, the ones I have cultivated and poured into. The ones that I call friends.

Fluent in friendship 

Friend to the end-ship 


The written words 

Between hearts and minds 

Words written on pages or not 

Thought out 

No doubt 

That these women are worth having 

In my life

By my side 

Sink or rise 

Part of a tribe 

Of sorts 

Hear us roar 

Collectively Shutting the door 

On the things that bind us 

Wind us 



That we have each other’s back

No smack


Or balkin’


toward healing 


Layer after layer 

Til we get to the core

Of who we are 


But so much more