I wrote this poem seven years ago. Bon Throwback Thursday. Mrs. Birdman  When he finally lands, the odds are that she’ll be waiting for him by the riverside. He’ll tell marvelous tales of the sweet air up there, of racing with skylarks and ravens, that near-miss with the eagle… She’ll tell him that Billy …
Elegies.
I'm still writing poems about him. I don't think that will ever end. Elegy. 16. Perhaps I always knew I would end up near you, my dear, departed one, near the streets you once walked upon, near the air you once had the privilege to breathe. Somehow that dreaded constant summer began to call …
it is advisable that we not remain friends.
I wrote this in 2012. Stuff was happening back then. These days, my quiet life is unencumbered by angry poems about silly boys. (Primarily because I'm married to Idris.) Happy Friday. it is advisable that we not remain friends. i will sabotage your efforts. you will bring this new girl to me, forgetting that our failed …
Continue reading "it is advisable that we not remain friends."
Contests.
I recently submitted a few of my pieces (two short stories and a poem) for some writing contests. I submitted them with the reminder to myself that 1) I'm not the only writer in the world, and 2) there's a high likelihood that I won't even place, because see #1. I should tell you that I don't …
[Pardon the Interruption]…
...But I'd like to deviate from the daily Parisian round-up and share my new poem with you. Enjoy. Birthright Before I could even learn to appreciate you, I was desperate to shrug you off, this mantle that clung to the nuances of my dark skin like birthplaces and legacies. You were the mirror I was ready to turn …
Zelda.
so I’d like to believe that you were his Daisy Fay, holding him at bay, until all that could glitter could finally become gold. and for a time, you and your pretty egg were the toast of the town, flapping around, drunk on your jazz and roses. but you forgot, didn’t you, that such things …
Les Poèmes.
Autumn: Brevity I pull open the doors for you, my intermittent love, eager to greet you with the cool kisses of yet another season. It does not bother me that you arrive once a year bearing your all-consuming brevity. It does not trouble me that I compete with the other colors in your world. When …
Your Elephant, After All.
and while the others gasped when you called me an elephant, I gazed at you with pride—as if you were mine, a lover armed with a compliment— and understood that you were hailing my ability to seemingly hold memory tightly in the palm of my hand, knowing the nuances and ridges of time and past …
Instagram.
In this Instagram world, my dear, find the right filter to place on our fractured love. Will it be Hefe or Mayfair? Amaro or Lo-Fi? Endeavor to color us with the sheen of the dreamlike and the sepia and take away the cracked veneer of a love that’s no longer a love at all, but …
Fabu Fashion Monday.
But it's Tuesday, This Square Peg. Do you own a calendar over there where you are? I do, I do. Wanted to share what I wore last night to a spoken word event at Busboys & Poets, which featured one of my very talented friends. Can I just say that she was awesome? To share one's …
This Square Peg. 