Tuesday, May 22, 2018 No tags Permalink

    I love the handful of the earth you are.
    Because of its meadows, vast as a planet,
    I have no other star. You are my replica
    of the multiplying universe

    Your wide eyes, are the only light I know
    from extinguished constellations;
    your skin throbs like the streak
    of a meteor through rain.

    Your hips were that much of the moon for me;
    your deep mouth and its delights, that much sun;
    your heart, fiery with its long red rays,

    was that much ardent light, like honey in the shade.
    So I pass across your burning form, kissing
    you – compact and planetary, my dove, my globe.

    As always, so much better in the original Spanish:

    Amo el trozo de tierra que tú eres,
    porque de las praderas planetarias
    otra estrella no tengo. Tú repites
    la multiplicación del universo.

    us anchos ojos son la luz que tengo
    de las constelaciones derrotadas,
    tu piel palpita como los caminos
    que recorre en la lluvia el meteoro.

    De tanta luna fueron para mí tus caderas,
    de todo el sol tu boca profunda y su delicia,
    de tanta luz ardiente como miel en la sombra

    tu corazón quemado por largos rayos rojos,
    y así recorro el fuego de tu forma besándote,
    pequeña y planetaria, paloma y geografía.

  • Extraordinary {Poetry}

    Tuesday, May 8, 2018 No tags Permalink

    She is a Sunday morning wrapped in blankets,

    because she is in love with her bed,

    but she is the furthest thing from lazy.

    She is driven and focused on

    making the best of every day she is given.

    Her room is her safe haven

    where most of her best ideas

    are turned into a playbook for an undefeated spirit.

    She is the kind that likes to smile

    as she battles those believing

    she is anything but extraordinary.

    She’s always two moves ahead,

    before you realize you’ve already lost.

    Continue Reading…

  • Spring

    Tuesday, April 24, 2018 No tags Permalink

    My spring of love
    In your presence, I found a garden filled with flowers,
    In your existence, the pelting rain felt like blissful showers,
    With you came the spring,
    With you, birds began to sing,
    Remnants of my heart were set into motion,
    On the possibility of a future fusion.
    Of all the seasons my love had succumbed itself to,
    Spring was the only one which could be attributed to you,
    For you blossomed like daisies,
    And smelled like soft breezes,
    Your smile was my harvest,
    The only crop that yielded most.

  • Like This {Poetry}

    Tuesday, March 27, 2018 No tags Permalink



    If anyone asks you
    how the perfect satisfaction
    of all our sexual wanting
    will look, lift your face
    and say,

    Like this.

    When someone mentions the gracefulness
    of the night sky, climb up on the roof
    and dance and say,

    Like this.

    If anyone wants to know what “spirit” is,
    or what “God’s fragrance” means,
    lean your head toward him or her.
    Keep your face there close.

    Like this.

    When someone quotes the old poetic image
    about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
    slowly loosen knot by knot the strings
    of your robe.

    Like this.

    If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,
    don’t try to explain the miracle.
    Kiss me on the lips.

    Like this. Like this.

    When someone asks what it means
    to “die for love,” point

    If someone asks how tall I am, frown
    and measure with your fingers the space
    between the creases on your forehead.

    This tall.

    The soul sometimes leaves the body, the returns.
    When someone doesn’t believe that,
    walk back into my house.

    Like this.

    When lovers moan,
    they’re telling our story.

    Like this.

    I am a sky where spirits live.
    Stare into this deepening blue,
    while the breeze says a secret.

    Like this.


  • Rise

    Tuesday, March 6, 2018 No tags Permalink


    And I rise.  Again and again.  Like a phoenix.

    Well we all shine on
    Like the moon and the stars and the sun
    Well we alll shine on
    Ev’ryone come on
    Instant Karma’s gonna get you
    Gonna knock you off your feet
    Better recognize your brothers
    Ev’ryone you meet
    Why in the world are we here
    Surely not to live in pain and fear



  • Anticipation of Love {Poetry}

    Tuesday, February 27, 2018 No tags Permalink

    Neither the intimacy of your look, your brow fair as a feast day,
    nor the favor of your body, still mysterious, reserved, and childlike,
    nor what comes to me of your life, settling in words or silence,
    will be so mysterious a gift
    as the sight of your sleep, enfolded
    in the vigil of my arms.
    Virgin again, miraculously, by the absolving power of sleep,
    quiet and luminous like some happy thing recovered by memory,
    you will give me that shore of your life that you yourself do now own.
    Cast up into silence
    I shall discern that ultimate beach of your being
    and see you for the first time, perhaps,
    as God must see you–
    the fiction of Time destroyed,
    free from love, from me.

    -Jorge Luis Borges

  • Become {Poetry}

    Tuesday, February 20, 2018 No tags Permalink

    Ten Guideposts to Wholehearted Living:

    1.  Cultivating Authenticity: letting go of what people think
    2. Cultivating Self-compassion: letting go of perfectionism
    3.Cultivating A resilient spirit: letting go of numbing and powerlessness
    4. Cultivating Gratitude and joy: letting go of scarcity and fear
    5. Cultivating Intuition and trusting faith: letting go of the need for certainty
    6. Cultivating Creativity: letting go of comparison
    7. Cultivating Play and rest: letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth
    8. Cultivating Calm and stillness: letting go of anxiety as a lifestyle
    9 .Cultivating Meaningful work: letting go of self-doubt

    10. Cultivating Laughter, song and dance: letting go of being cool and “always in control.”

  • Densely {Poetry}

    Tuesday, January 16, 2018 No tags Permalink

    “I want to live so densely,
    lush and slow in the next few years
    that a year becomes ten years,
    and the past becomes only a page
    in the book of my life.”

    -nayyirah waheed


    Continue Reading…

  • [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]

    Tuesday, January 9, 2018 No tags Permalink

    i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

    my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

    i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

    by only me is your doing,my darling)

    i fear

    no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

    no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

    and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

    and whatever a sun will always sing is you

    here is the deepest secret nobody knows

    (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

    and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

    higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

    and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

    i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

                – e e cummings


    When I hide away
    from the world,
    I take you with me.

  • i am running into a new year {Poetry}

    Tuesday, January 2, 2018 No tags Permalink

    i am running into a new year
    and the old years blow back
    like a wind
    that i catch in my hair
    like strong fingers like
    all my old promises and
    it will be hard to let go
    of what i said to myself
    about myself
    when i was sixteen and
    twenty-six and thirty-six
    even forty-six but
    i am running into a new year
    and i beg what i love and
    i leave to forgive me

    —Lucille Clifton

    published in Good Woman: Poems and A Memoir 1969-1980


    We spend January 1 walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives… not looking for flaws, but for potential. When you start to feel like things should have been better this past year, remember the mountains and valleys that got you here. They are not accidents and those same moments weren’t in vain. You are not the same. You have grown and you are growing. You are breathing. You are living. You are wrapped in endless, boundless, grace. And things WILL get better. There is more to you than yesterday.

    One thing I love to do every year is Apartment Therapy’s January  Cure. The Cure is a month worth of assignments, a giant kickstart to the new year in which you do something good for your home, every day.  You get a small task every day, and by the end of the month, your home is a better place to live.  I love it!  You can sign up to get a daily reminder here.