Write so people will listen....

There are so many things going on in our world today. Why not write what you know and write with purpose? I have an enormous respect for children and those that are less fortunate than I. I only hope this poem creates a stir in you and you take up arms to be that voice for someone other than yourself.

 Kaleidoscope

Frail, pixie-like

            and born to dream

                        and dance.

            Confined

to her mechanical bed

            at Saint Jude

                        still smiling sweetly.

The rope

            burns

                        as he makes

                                    a decision

                                                to end the taunting.

The sign

            hammered into

                        the soft earth

            after a soggy Kentucky rain.

                        Another family

                                    and their emptied

                                                American dream

                                    turns into

                        a cramped home

            made by Ford.

Handcuffs press into her

            swollen wrists

                        sitting, chin buried

                                    in her chest

                                                a second offense.

                                    Her baby

                        at home with

            daddy, who bruises.

                        She only needed an escape

            from the unemployment line

and the boy who said

            I Love You, but lied

                        and only left purple on her skin

                                    and made her baby cry.

Another night,

            alcohol brushing the back

                        of his throat

                                    drowning in the

                                                memory of her

                                                            and the way she

                                                                        smiled

                                                                        before

                                                                        her body

                                                                        sank  

                                                                        further

                                                                        into the

                                                                        ground         

                                                                                    and people

                                                                                                walked

                                                                                                            away, already forgetting.

Humanity still feels,

BUT

is afraid

            to stand up for children,

                        is judgmental

                                    of criminals society has created.

                                    Humanity still feels,

                                    BUT

                                                it’s time to give

                                                            each life a voice.                                        

HOW to write what you feel....and mean it.

The best part of writing is knowing your own heart. You don't have to know the hearts of others. You only need to be sure of your own. I've made mistakes like anyone else. (Especially in relationships.) All I know is, if you give up hope that there is someone out there perfect for you....I pity you. Never give up hope and NEVER EVER settle for less than you deserve. Here is my latest poem.

You Move

I feel my soul

move-

creating flames

by the touch of

your hands-

sighing with

every sweet word

you breathe-

every new moment

is cherished and stored

in my memory-

a library of books

with fresh pages

telling a new story-

the story about how

you moved my very existence.

An excerpt from my young adult novel...in progress!!!

Here is an excerpt from Janie's POV in my novel, Shadows of the Heart. This is a supernatural young adult novel that I have been working on while in Graduate school. Hope you enjoy this... :) 

My journal is still open to a blank page. I need to write something. A memory. My mother told me, “If there comes a time in your life when you feel there is a blank page, either glimpse into the future, or travel back to memories.”

October 2010

Memories. I have many of those. The first one that comes to mind is this –It was a day in the middle of winter. The snow had fallen and there was just enough to leave footprints. I was sixteen years old. The scent of fresh pine needles brushing against my sleeve and my wicker basket. I told father that I was picking holly leaves. I found them intriguing. I wanted to make a wreath for our mantle; a gift for the two of them. I came upon a Holly tree and lying beneath was a red ribbon in the snow. The ribbon was silk and was long enough to wear wrapped in someone’s hair. I looked around, but no one was there. I tied it to the basket and began picking holly leaves. The only part about picking those leaves is the sharp edges that sting. I wanted to make that wreath and I wanted it to be perfect. The basket was finally full and I decided to look for sturdy branches. When that was all done I began walking home. I realized I hadn’t come alone. There were paw prints in the snow. They were large and followed behind me until it stopped a few feet back from the holly tree. Beads of sweat gathered on my lip and forehead. I couldn’t make out what kind of animal this was or why it had followed without hurting me. Then a branch broke just behind me. I turned slowly to see a white wolf breathing steadily into the cold air. His eyes were hazel and he stared into mine as if he knew me. Looking back now, I cannot tell you why I didn’t run. I only reached out and placed my hand on his head. He leaned into me and breathed in and out deeply and slowly. I stood there a long time almost afraid to move; not because I was scared of him, but because I felt as if he was lonely. His nose pushed into my side nudging me away. It was almost as if he knew that I needed to go. As soon as I turned to leave he howled and I ran and didn’t look back.

-That’s all I remember from that day. It was frighteningly beautiful. The wolf was there with a purpose that day. He was protecting me from Nicholas. I didn’t know Nicholas then, he only knew of me.

Janie G.

            I closed the journal and then my eyes. The air had gotten colder and there was a fire burning close by. A nearby neighbor burning fall leaves. It’s such a shame to burn what has fallen from trees. I love to hear the sound of leaves crushed beneath my feet. The feeling of lying down on cool earth and twirling a leaf between your fingertips while the sky holds new sun is a perfect moment. A peaceful moment. Something I have wished for, for a very long time. When I open my eyes, I see Daniel sitting below on the picnic table. His heart is steady and his breathing is steady. His mood, dark. No doubt in my mind that I am the cause of this. I have shut him out because I love him. He deserves to know the truth, but he deserves life more than truth.