A Feast Awaits!

I marinate in a stew of “busy,”a star of importance pinned on my lapel.This is the “success” culture sells, is it not?The one who is stretched thinnest, wins —Right? The ease for me comes in making my exterior shine while I take on the world. As Ru Paul says, “We’re all born naked and the rest is drag.”So, who will I show up as? The pages of Cosmopolitan taught this awkward teen to appear en vogue.Add some eye liner, rouge and a fuchsia scarf — mere basics for one who dabbles with color all day.By now, I know well how…

Glitter in the Grief

This poem is a collective of my own and other’s tales of creativity I’ve packed into one story. Dedicated to those women who are out there blazing the creative spiritual trail. You were told not to get dirty. Keep your fingernails clean. Nice girls smile polite. And, for goodness’ sake, “Do not cuss!” But, you couldn’t help bending your childlike knees in your striped yellow dress,leaning low toward the earth to make a prayer with the God-given soil that lay beneath your feet. You scooped handfuls of water and dust, feeling wet sludge mush between your fingers; this slippery grit…