Today I sit by the


Wind blowing

Children chattering at ducks

Sirens in the background

Today I sit by the


As friends pass

Old and new meet

Mingling with

New Understanding

Today I sit by the


I liked, I loved

I liked a man, he didn’t like me back

I loved a man, he didn’t love me back

I liked myself, I liked myself back

It took a while but

I love me, and I love myself back

I thought I was broken


Love and like never mean broken

They mean capable of

Love and like again and again

Until it fits

Vintage Work Project

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be adding poetry to this site that I wrote before I was brave enough to call myself a poet. Some poems may even come with basic doodles and illustrations. It has taken me a while to find my poet voice but it has been an overall fun experience. I like looking back to see how my work has evolve. This poem seemed like a fitting introduction to this project:

The vines of life

always cross

but never do they seem

to get lost

one way and

then the other

never stopping

or losing their direction

but always seeking,





their place

Spring time

1. black skin


I have nothing to prove

No apologies

For who I am

No surprises

At my success

I have nothing

To prove

2. I am working on


Taking my time

Not worrying

I am working on


Standing tall

Over a new

Loaf of bread

Smells wafting through

The house

Lounging under a tree

Good book in hand

I am working on relaxing

Swaying gently in

My hammock

Sweet breeze


I am working on relaxing

3. Foreign feeling

Pit of my stomach




4. I am made of the sun

Dry bristly grass

Blue sky’s that go forever

So that I may keep on forever

I reach out

Trying to touch it

I am made of

Gentle winds

Naked trees

Spring sounds

And summer heat

That always makes me

Thirst for more

I am made of my mother’s flesh

My daddy’s art

My brother’s loyalty

My sister’s heart

My strength

I am made

5. Wind blowing, whistling

As it passes over

My soda pop

6. Unsure hug, silent

Request muffled by chatter

Have mercy on me

7. Park picnic table

Downcast eyes, hesitant gaze

Sir, please have a seat