Hi friends! I am thrilled to announce the upcoming release of my first self-published poetry book, Love Exposure: Poetry for Healing the Heart is a tribute to turbulent emotions and relationships for growth. The book (92 pages) includes a final chapter of journaling prompts/ suggested activities. Order your copy today
I want to write well.
No I want to write good, so good, that you fall off your seat
So that the words snake around your heart, clench it tight in their grasp
And pull your insides out, because parts of you are dripping all over my
Paper. And I want you to feel the inside of my hands as they dance across the keyboard attempting to form places and people and passions
But sometimes it doesn’t work. I have tried. Sometimes it is impossible
To try and coax that fish out of green blue waters and all you are left with
Are waves and ripples going out in every direction but landing no-where.
Squirms and word worms and disaster signs seeping into lines.
When all I want, more than anything, is for the waves to crash against
Your shore. Meeting you and letting you go, but never leaving.
I want to write the kind of words people remember in their deep conversations,
“Oh yeah, I read this poem once and it totally described how I feel.” I love
So much when you can reach into someone’s soul, your own, but it’s as if you scooped water from the collective ocean and the saltiness on your lips isn’t there because you had to bend down and drink. It’s there because it is in everyone and to me that is the sheer beauty of being able to write. Of setting this free on paper, or traveling through the wires to reach you wherever you are
I imagine this golden beam from my heart to yours at night sometimes,
It lights up the cities on the way, and when it finally reaches you, my energy warms up your heart so that you melt inside. That is what I want, a strange sort of Microwave from Mars that transmits light in all directions, a magical pen that pours love and heartache onto pages so that maybe one day, maybe one ordinary day, when everything else had crumbled to dust, scattered away,
there are shadows on the sidewalk,
of what I tried to portray.