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."
I Didn’t Forget.
In July 2005, my family lost my beloved father in death. Naturally, all things suffered because of this loss, which meant my overall desire to do anything. One of those things was writing. Significant because writing has always been my tool for dealing with personal pain; my longstanding avenue for catharsis. But I didn't want to pick …
would you like a magazine?
When I was a teenager, the answer to that question would have been yes, yes, a thousand times, yes. Back then, I was a connoisseur of all things glossy reading materials: the goal was to spend every bit of my pocket money (the African parent's version of allowance) on any magazine I could feast my eyes …
Before and After.
Happy to let y'all know that I contributed a piece for my good friend AB's new blog. I also hold the privilege of being the very first contributor for her new baby, which is awesome when you consider how much I love supporting my friends, especially when it comes to writing/blogging. Check it out here, …
A Different Prism.
Never mind that he's Mr. Darcy, for heavens sake, so of course he would feel that way about reading, further convincing me that he's perfect. Never mind that. Let's focus on the fact that not only is he a walking dream, but he's also right. Whether powerful novel, evocative story, thrilling poem, thought-provoking essay, or meditative …
The Unibrow.
When I was 15 years old, my love of words helped me to decipher an interesting conversation going on around me. Picture it, 1994, a suburban high school: a 15 year-old sophomore is sitting in her Sports and Entertaining Marketing Class. She is sitting quietly, which is how she is able to hear the following, paraphrased conversation: …
This Square Peg. 