Poetry, Weekly Inspirations

Long Distance Trucker

I met a man online who was a long-distance trucker

I was weary of his career and didn’t want to be a sucker

He had been driving many miles and decided to take a break

He said he was searching for that special number 8

She didn’t have to be perfect or of a voluptuous size

Just be able to carry on a conversation and intrigue his mind

Trying to find that unique someone to share his life

Who could understand, be sympathetic, and with no strife

He knew he had little time to give because he was married

Already married to the cross-country roads so he tarried

I could hear the loneliness in is voice and sensed his uneasiness

He confessed he wanted to settle down and have someone to finesse with

He admitted he chose this life of a trucker because it fit

Like a hand in a glove when he was 20 but now he’s 48ish

His career has taken its toll and now doesn’t look so great

I’ve heard with the lonely trucker comes much heartache

The more I thought, pondered, and prayed I soon saw the truth

The lonely trucker wasn’t lonely as he said, and I had the proof

Facebook photos, Instagram posts, and late-night confessions

The mask slipped and revealed the heart as I listened

City to city, house to house, bedroom door to bedroom door

No thanks, I’ll keep my heart for Mr. Right not for someone looking to score

Poetry, Weekly Inspirations

Passion Froze

grayscale photo of a man running
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Oh! What a crush I had

Following so close behind

Hoping and wishing he’d look back

Did he notice did he see me

Muscle bound and luscious lips on fire

If I could taste it would quench my desire

As it so happened I’d get that chance

School project alone or was it happenstance

He felt my lust for him without saying a word

Reached over pulled me in close I was weak as a bird

Taking full advantage of the minute or two alone

I felt his biceps and smelled his cologne

Mouth open tongue out desire and passion

Filled the room until the door came crash-in

Back to work you guys whew that was close

Still remembering years later passion froze

Weekly Inspirations

What Does Reading Do For Me?

photogrid_1453943279105_1_1.jpgI know I’ve got a good read when the novel grabs me by the hand on the first page. It pulls me line by line refusing to let me go that’s when I know I’m off on an amazing adventure.

I run through the sentences like playing the game Hide and Go Seek anxiously awaiting to feel what’s about to happen next.

As the characters unfold I talk to them as if they were my mother, my sister, or my best friend.  Scolding, crying, comforting, and wrapping my arms around

their pain.  My heart races to the rhythm of each word.  It’s so hard to put you down even for a moment.  I look up and it’s 2 a.m. and I must go to work in the morning.

We will meet again tomorrow, same time, same place.

 

 

Some of those books are:

  1. Cooked by Jeff Henderson
  2. The Road of Lost Innocence by Somaly Mam
  3. Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston.

 

Weekly Inspirations

Who I am and why I’m here

To answer the question, “Who I am and why I’m here,” I must take you back to when I was a kid.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here 

 

I am much like my mother who is soft spoken, is the peace-maker in the family, and is always willing to help someone in need. She has been taking me to church since I was an energetic and talkative 5-year-old.  I used to bring my notebook to church and take notes mimicking my mother.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

English was always my favorite subject in school and I have my 4th grade teacher Ms. Sutphin to thank for that. Ms. Sutphin was a 6 ft. tall German woman with a thick accent. Each time she read a story, she stopped right before the drama ended leaving us 9-year-olds thirsty for more and hardly able to sleep that night.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

I was a tall, thin and very quiet in school. I was shy and very unsure of myself.  I was in love with my books and especially my diary I named DD.  I spilled out my sneaky 13-year-old thoughts on paper, then locked up DD with a little key that came with her, and hid her under my mattress.  She was a 5-year diary that I wrote in almost every day for 5 years.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

blank paper with pen and coffee cup on wood table
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My grandmother and I formed a bond through writing when I was a teen. I was one of many granddaughters and we lived 800 miles apart.  I still have one of her letters that she wrote to me over 20 years ago written on pink paper.  She said in her letter these unforgettable words, “My eyes are getting dim and this will be my last letter.”  RIP grandma, thank you for making me feel special.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

I started seeking out pen pals to correspond with when I was a teen because I was bored at home and had to babysit a lot. I found an ad in one of my teenage magazines for pen pals and started a 10+ year relationship with Rehmat from Ethiopia.  I learned that what I saw on TV about Africa was very different than how she described her life.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

I enrolled in college right after high school but dropped out after a year unable to decide what I wanted to do with my life, deeply discouraged, and unable to pay the tuition.  Fast forward 25 years, I went back to school, majored in journalism with a focus on writing and received my BA degree graduating with honors.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

I taught my sons to pray as preschoolers and now they are grown men.  Recently, we came together for the holidays and sat down to eat, we held hands and after we said our grace, my sons proceeded to say the confession that I taught them as teenagers that I assumed they had forgotten or didn’t say anymore, “All my needs are met, we are out of debt, and there is plenty more to put in store.”

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

I’ve had two kidney transplants receiving the 2nd kidney from my sister. When I was on dialysis it was painful, very frustrating, and my life seemed very dark. There was even a time that I didn’t think I would live through it and a time I didn’t want to. I am still here not just surviving but thriving, working everyday, enjoying my family and friends and doing some traveling too. Living life.


Who I Am and Why I’m Here

I didn’t share my story for years.  It wasn’t until I had been meditating and praying, then sat down at my laptop to write that my heart and my brain tried to get together, but couldn’t agree.  So my spirit took over and said it’s time – no more hiding.  I wrote sentences that poured out of me like an open fire hydrant. After reading it, I knew it didn’t come from me, but the Spirit within. I sent my article to a magazine, it was published and won an award for my story. (See video in the About section on my blog).

This is why I’m here.