Y is for Your, #AtoZChallenge

Your name ignites a whispering hope.

Moonlight white bathes the scene-

Perfection in the nighttime glow.

A setting; mysterious, but serene.


Something right turned out wrong.

A decoration not for display,

But instead for target practice.

True violence masked as play.


Morning disaster unobserved-

The realization cold.

Lessons sometimes cannot be learned.

The truth gets hard to hold.


Electric flames lead the way,

Paving a road in humming light.

Which way we go I cannot say,

But we’ll end in the depths of night.


A voice heard on high

Signals those who are below.

More audible than a sigh

With words coming slow.


There is one weapon above the rest:

The power of thought and a persuasive tongue.

Most would overlook it as the best,

But there’s a reason we start off young.


My destination remains unknown

While everyone else knows where to go.

And it seems I’m always on my own,

But I find it’s better not to know.



H is for Hope, #AtoZChallenge

Is hope a flaw? An unfortunate quirk of human nature? Or is hope a positive quality to have? I tend to think of it as both.

I think the benefits of hope are somewhat obvious. It can provide motivation, fuel ambition, and make you look forward to the future. The seemingly endless amount of hope I have is one of the reasons I can be so driven to do things that I may not even have business doing.

For example, next year I will be starting grad school and I have taken on two majors: Creative Writing and African Music and Dance. I already submitted my final thesis proposal, a collection of books on Ghanaian culture and music, which will require copious amounts of time dedicated to research and writing. This doesn’t even include the actual coursework I need to do for both programs. On top of this, I still plan to keep my current jobs, although one is seasonal and the others I will be forced to cut down my hours. How am I thinking this is at all possible??? Because I am endlessly hopeful. I believe in myself when it comes to things like being busy and hard work. In the midst of it I may get discouraged, but I always seem to finish what I start. This is the positive power of hope.

I think the downside of hope may be a little less apparent. For example, hoping someone will change so you stay in that relationship, be it friendship or otherwise, and end up getting used and hurt. Or hoping that THIS time will be different, for whatever the circumstance, even if logic and reasoning tells you otherwise.

There have definitely been times where my hope has gotten me in trouble or been the reason for heartache, but it still remains one of my biggest motivators in life. I’ll gladly risk having moments of pain to remain always hoping for good to prevail.


I went to Taylor’s funeral service today and it was a beautiful celebration of her life and a good reminder of just how many people she’s touched in her short lifetime. I’ve found myself lately conflicting with a lot of ups and downs in terms of emotions. When I got the news of her passing I was attending a wedding. Saturday, I was at a baby shower, yesterday, I was at my cousin’s baptism and today, I was at a funeral. Even though we all gathered for Chi’s death, we found ourselves laughing over our silly memories and so grateful to all be together again. I wrote a poem a few years ago that reflects on these contrasts in life and I thought today was the perfect day to share it. It’s called Joy.

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Losing Love (And Finding It)


You and I are like oil and water and we’ve been trying, trying, trying, oh, to mix it up.”

He’s singing to me on the phone again. We talk everyday and I call him a friend, but I know it feels like more. We get so close and I’m terrified. I look for an escape, any escape, and I find one. A new boy at my first job. We start to date and I assume that will make my feelings go away…

I’m drinking the ink from my pen and I’m balancing history books up on my head, but it all boils down to one quotable phrase: “If you love something, give it away.”

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If we were having coffee…

If we were having coffee I’d want to hear about your week first. Tired of always sharing bad news, I’d like to hear your exciting stories or comfort you and offer solutions to problems other than my own.

I was talking to a woman on the phone and she kept asking me, “What are you doing to support yourself?” I keep wondering the same thing. She thinks I should talk to someone, I’m not so sure. She said, “I have no doubt you can handle this, when we’re in survivor mode we can get through anything, but we all have basic needs and when we don’t notice they aren’t getting met it can sometimes turn up down the road in insidious ways.”

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G is for Gumdrops

She set out fifteen gumdrops before her. They went in order: green, yellow, pink, yellow, green. The last ten were red. I asked her why she set them up this way. It didn’t make sense to me, it didn’t have a consistent pattern, where was her reasoning?

She smiled and laughed, “Green for nature and all beautiful creation, yellow for the sun giving warmth and light, pink for tender hearts beating hopefulness, yellow because that’s my favorite color, and green because that’s his favorite color.”

“So what do all the red ones stand for?”

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