The hills were crushing against the sky

The mills were waving their arms in the air

The birds flew and soared on high

As we watched from the seats accross the land


The houses docked themselves in the green

The church stood and caused a scene

The many poles added to the fray

Of the ever pleasing chaotic November day


In the distance the sky is blue

and the colours blend in a good natural hue

The writer takes all this in a smiles

And closes her eyes with a satisfying sigh.



Heritage (2)

My thoughts were yielding results
I was starting to see my faults
I had thrown my heritage away
Trying to fit in today

Why I did this I do not know
Why I sit here today I still don’t know
The way ahead lies uncertain
But I know one thing’s for certain.

I need to go back to who I was
Embrace all my flaws
This is not who I am
The real me is hidden behind all the glam.

But society grants me no permit
It puts me in a fit
I still have to choose
Truth is I always think I have nothing to loose

Till the ball drops
And the clock stops
Then everything becomes clear
I need to hold my heritage dear






It kept me awake during the night
During the day, it was all I held in sight
I didn’t know the words to explain what I felt
But I knew it was hot enough to make my innards melt

It was right there when I crossed the border
But I thought to myself, why bother?
It seemed to be telling me I was not wanted
I simply took all warnings for granted

Moving on it begun to gnaw at me
Causing me to look deep within me
I was looking for the root of my guilt
Trying to find what had been spilt

I was unsuccessful
I became totally resentful
Why is my mind doing this to me?
I started to get mad at me

Finding a solution was the right way to go
But something kept saying no
I needed a remedy
So I tried to think sensibly.

End of part one…


A Reading List for Mother’s Day


There is no grand unified theory of motherhood. Within every paradigm–chosen families, queer families, nuclear families, adoptive and foster families, on and on– mothering may vary a million times over. In this Mother’s Day reading list, I’ve attempted a rough chronology, from pregnancy to mourning, concluding with information about the crucial, joyful National Black Mama’s Bail Out Day.

1. “Dear Daughter, Your Mom.” (Sarah Smarsh, The Morning News, June 2014)

This is an essay about your mom: her Hooters uniform, her Mensa card, her abstinence, and the potency of mother-love:

What would I want for my daughter?

The answer was always correct and its implementation reliably unpleasant. Human intimacy, so she suffered hugs until she became enthusiastic with affection. Honesty, so she said what she meant. Love, so she showed hers.

2. “First I Got Pregnant. Then I Decided to Kill the Mountain Lion.” (Kathleen Hale, Elle, February 2017)

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A calculated amassing of beats

A gorgeous cacophony of delighted streams of water

A rhythmic danceable tune

All skillfully choreographed by a mortal to bring joy and excitement to its listener.


Fingers twitch in tune to the beat as it drops

The blood flowing through the veins of the individual can’t help but bubble in delight

The feet gladly join in the celebration

This is finally crowned by a slight bobbing of the head




You can’t take it anymore

You can’t sit down and ignore

You can’t avoid the fact that your brain is being consumed

Consumed by the wonderful mixture being ushered in through your ears.


Your lips start to move suddenly

And you feel you wrote the song all on your own.


At that point it is confirmed,

Your soul is opened wide and is made receptive.


You relax and know

You know that for a few moments you are far

Far far away


In a distant world.





Which Twitter Are You?

A very wonderful post

Colin Garrow

Warning: Rant Alert!

As much as I like Twitter, there’s one thing about certain other Twitterers that bugs me. Let’s begin with a rundown: as far as I can tell, there are six types of folk on Twitter (seven, if you count the Porn Brigade)…

The folks who set up a Twitter account then realise they don’t know what to do with it. Three Tweets later, it all peters out…

Individuals who follow everyone and everything, irrespective of content. They’re the numbers-obsessed people, whose only aim is to amass millions of followers. They RT stuff they think will get them new followers. End of.

These are basically nice people who have no particular theme to their Twitter account, they like what they like and RT stuff that fits loosely under that heading. They’re good at sharing. Mostly.

These are lovely people who aren’t obsessed with how…

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Legends take a while to form

They always take their time to be born

But when they come we always know

Because they have a different glow


We see them at the corner stops

And greet them in the coffee shops,

But there is always one thing we know,

That legends have a different glow.


They mingle with the high and low

And have extra patience for the slow

But there is always one thing we know,

That legends have a different glow.