Motion, Artistic Nuances, Tantric Realities, and Anthology


So, I woke up dawning a “Make Love not War” T-shirt. So ironic. But, what is it called when my “love” is my “War?”

Project 12

Project 12 offers a platform for artists to promote themselves as well as do something great for the community! Continue reading

The Buffoon, The Jester..The Charlatan

Not even a cast iron spittoon to piss in. No mangled doormat to wipe your filthy boot..

No mutt to befriend you..

No mere worth from any self-proclaimed utterance; dare run free from your lips..

Your infantile ignorance makes you blatantly stupid.

No quest for leather back books that mask sheep skinned pages.. No eye for greatness or dreams of wonder.

No hope for the future or prosperous endeavors.

Content to be dumb and stupid.

You jump in mid-air and click your heels in your forestry made outfit, pointy toe glassy shoes, slicked hair and … Continue reading

Night Navigator







Night train.. rolling over hills, and drifts, winding roads..and worn metal.

11:16 pm.

Take the Eastbound train. Exit at Stadium Subway.

Head West to 4th street. Pass the Ball Park, 2 blocks ahead, on the other side of the highway.

Down the Street. Around the corner. Behind the alley. Past the iron gate. To the right.   (Inside) of Blazes Blues Bar.

Upstairs. Past the pool table, at the far left corner, keep going. Through the red curtain.

The First Door on the left.  Knock. Turn. Push. Peak. Step. Inside.  Step. Behind. Shut.

(your here)

1 … Continue reading

Silly Little Fishy

Silly Little Fishy

Out the tank you leaped..ignorant and deaf
buck eyed and free

Thirsty for more..bigger, deeper, seas.

Hungry for what you “thought” was on the other-side of the glass

Silly Little Fishy

“The lake has dried up..there’s no water here and the oxygen isn’t that good either.

I watch as you gasp and flap.  The shine of your scales begin to fade….open and
close your gills blow…

Dammit!..Little fishy! I told you that the lake dried up. There’s no fresh water here!”

I scoop you fast, and drop quickly into … Continue reading

PFC LaVena Lynn Speaks

On April 28, 2012, I attended the NWVAA (National Women’s Veterans Association of America) 1st Annual “Break the Silence” Military Sexual Assault & Suicide Advocates in San Diego, California. The Conference featured Veteran Women bravely telling their stories of sexual assault and abuse suffered by fellow soldiers, superior officers, and other officials of the military.  These Women stood strong and sometimes through tears yet steadfast and convicted they “SPOKE”.  They told “Their Stories”; “Her-Stories” in their own way. One of those voices that spoke, was that of PFC LaVena Lynn Johnson. I was there to accompany her and to make … Continue reading



I had this dream last night about the cartoon “Chowder” I dreamt that Me, Chowder, Mung Daal, and the goofy one (Rada Rada)- Shinitzel were lost in a Parallel Universe with these translucent floaty aliens. We were running through the cartoon streets, desperately trying to escape these creatures. We ran until we came to what we thought was the “Kitchen” and assumed that we made it safely home. But, NO! Remember, we are in a Parallel Universe so everything looks like well, hell Everything.

Anyway, I (of-course) had this strong desire to bake Peach Cobbler (yummy). Well, right … Continue reading

“Don’t ya let my baby ride, Man”- Jaw Jacking

Jaw Jacking

She belongs to me.

She belongs to me! From the Top of her Head to the Tip of her Toe..Mine.  All Mine. Possessive? (Hell Yes)  Controlling? (Hell Yes)  She belongs to me..from the Tip of her Toe to the Top of her Head.

Wherever, she goes..I go. Whatever, she does..I do. AND if I say NO! Then that’s what I mean and that’s what it…will be.

She belongs to me!  (Mine)..ALL MINE!  From the Top of her Head to the Tip of her Toe. If I say she c’aint go..then Dammit! She C’aint go!

From the Tip of … Continue reading

The Blue Lady

Shh… (she whispered)

With a lick of her indigo lips and a slight swivel of hip…she blessed me.

With her pinkie finger she anointed my forehead with golden honey.

With her whole hands she scooped Shea butter from a yellow calabash and oiled my body from a small jar,

then she covered my shiny skin with cinnamon dust

and dabbled cherry juice into my navel and goats milk behind my ears

She took a honeysuckle vine and braided it into my hair and laced cowery shells around my waist.

She kissed my feet and painted them with vanilla syrup

Never … Continue reading

THINK Big!!! Thoughts become Realities!

LOTUSseed Art Gallery

African-American folk art and Mixed Media

ACT Now! Blog

Whose Standing UP for them?

Expats Post

Write to Live, Live to Write
Writing..and Creating are my LIFE..but there's always more to do..and unfortunately lines haven't figured out how to write themselves, yet. So, many projects are left unfinished and stories untold...Here's some scribble:
Poker face..getting ready for a party.
(Add to it, if you like)
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