Tuesday, February 28, 2012 0 words I am thankful for

A Man's Promise by Zach Cobos

My sis had posted it on FaceBook and I found it had a powerful message and was beautifully executed.

A Man’s Promise from Christopher Beaudoin on Vimeo.

Friday, February 24, 2012 3 words I am thankful for


I was sitting
On a bench
Facing a raging inferno.

It rolled mercilessly
Towards me, consuming
All in it's way
And I sat.

I waited
For it to consume me,
To eat me up,
Leaving nothing but
Charred remains.

It was a long journey
To this point and
My body was weary,
To walk another step
Was not an option.

I chose to rest here,
To die here, even
My will to live
Was exhausted and
Slept fitfully within.

It was beautiful,
the inferno, that is,
And as I was consumed,
My skin set on fire.
Instead of fear,
I felt hope.

I was consumed
And I felt nothing,
Pain did not reside here,
In it's place was energy.

As I felt everything
I am, everything
I was become consumed
And die, ceasing to
Be, I was reborn.

The tail end of
The inferno swept over me,
Silence reigned,
The land was still.

I shook of the cinders
Of who I was
And stood renewed
In my new skin.

I had survived
The one thing I feared
And learned the one lesson
It was created to teach.

The one thing I feared
Is the one thing
That will make me stronger,
That will make me anew,
That will set me free
From my fears.
Thursday, February 23, 2012 1 words I am thankful for


Normally, I would post a poem every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, but this week I have been unable to do so. Part of the reason is my starting a new job and I have been in training since Monday. A lot of info and being in a new setting and just new things on a whole. The other part is I have been unable to write anything, poet's block. I think this is a result of the new job. Anyhooo, I am working to at least have a poem for Friday and to get back into posting my poems and promoting them.

Thanks for continuing to follow me and your patience and no I ain't dead. LOL!!
Friday, February 17, 2012 0 words I am thankful for


He wasn’t looking
To meet anyone
When he came to the bar.

He had planned
To drown his sorrows
In Whiskey and peanuts.

Instead he met her
And he listened
To her tale.

A tale,
He wished he had never heard,
He wished it was some
Liquor induced delusion.

And yet there she sat
With doe-like eyes
Tinged with innocence,
Regret and fear.

He wanted to protect her.

He want to never
See her scared,
Worried or any other emotion
That would alter
The tranquility of her face.

Instead he listened,
Knowing that that
Was all she wanted from him.

As her tale ended,
He could see her anxiety
Melt away like wax
Exposed to a flame.

She smiled at him weakly,
Then in one gulp,
She finished her drink.

On steady legs that
Spoke nothing of the amount
Of alcohol she consumed,
She stood and thanked him
For listening. Then she left.

He looked down
At his own drink,
He looked into
His own life.

Compared to her sorrows,
His were minnows
To her whales.

He finished his drink
Paid his bill
And left the bar

Sober to the reality
That his life could
Be a whole lot worse,
He could have died
And not be missed
By anyone.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012 4 words I am thankful for

My Tired Heart

My heart grew tired
Of waiting, instead
It slipped into
The cool waters of

Before long, it
Had dived deeper
Into the depths
Of bitterness until
It knew nothing else
But that.

I feared that my heart
Had drowned,
Its lungs filled
With bitterness,
Completely breathless.

I had plunged in
After it,
Hoping to save it
From itself.
Was I too late?

I dragged its
Waterlogged corpse ashore.
I will not let it die.
Dying is for the weak.

Weak in body,
Weak in mind,
Weak in spirit,
And I refused to believe
That my heart was weak.

I fought to bring
The organ back to life,
Administrating all types
Of life saving techniques.

All the while,
I whispered to my heart.
"I love you,
But without you,
I can only love
Just so much."

"I need you
To love so much more.
I want my love
To be bigger than
The universe,
Richer than diamond
And platinum fields,
Sweeter than an ocean
Of honey sprinkled
With sugar.
I need you
To love again."

Just when I thought
All was lost,
All had slipped away
Like sand through my fingers,
I heard but a murmur.

I leaned forward
And listened.
My heart had heard me,
It heard my whispers
And responded softly.

"I love you, too,
And we shall love again!"

Submitted to dVerse Open Link
Monday, February 13, 2012 8 words I am thankful for

Love Is Easy To Find

Love is easy to find.

You can find it in a park
Under a sycamore tree.

You can find it in a supermarket
In the vegetable aisle.

You can find it in offices,
In classes,
On a bus or on a train,
On the street or
In a bar.

Love is easy to find, but
True love is not as easy.

It's not everyday that
You find that love
That promises to age well
Like fine wine and
Good cheese.

The kind of love
That breathes new life
Into your life and still
Takes your breath away.

That kind of love
That makes that person
The first person you call
When you are on top of the world,
The first person you call
When you wish
You were six feet under.

The kind of love that,
No matter how many times
You push that person away,
They will always come back,
Always be there for you.

The kind of love that
Guarantees a shoulder
To lean on,
An ear to listen,
A smile to encourage,
A hug when you need one.

The kind of love that,
No matter how much
Of the ugly you show,
They always find and
See the beauty in you.

The kind of love
Where you can't imagine,
Can not even phantom
Not having that person
In the story that is your life.

That love is not easy to find,
But if you find it,
Hold on to it gently
Like a butterfly.

Don't hold it too tight
That it feels strangled,
Constantly fighting to be free.

Don't hold it too loosely
That it can easily fly away,
Never to return.

Hold it gently
So that it grows
From something flighty
And superficial into
Something stable and strong.
And even if it manages
To fly away,
It will always come back.

Love is easy to find
But true love, real love
Is the one you keep.

Submitted to dVerse Open Link
Wednesday, February 8, 2012 4 words I am thankful for

Beauchamp - She Wanted A Love Poem

The following poem is from the section, "Secrets" of She Wanted A Love Poem, a collection of poems.


Reverend Robert Alexander Beauchamp
Was the pastor of a little Baptist church
In a little town in Louisiana.

A tall man with a medium build
Who had a penchant for suits.
A black suit on Sundays
As he stood at the pulpit
And a seersucker affair
During the week when one
Would see him on Main Street
Going here or there.

Rev. Beauchamp was a respectable man,
A measured man,
A good man,
A good husband,
A good father,
One of the few pastors
Who actually lived
The life he preached about,
Or so the towns people thought.

Once a month,
On a weekend,
Rev. Beauchamp would be absent
From the little town
He had made his home.

Some folks speculated that
He was visiting family,
Attending a conference or
Visiting another church.

The truth was no one really knew
Where the good reverend went,
Not his congregation,
Not his good friends,
Not his children,
Not even his wife.

Once a month,
Rev. Robert Alexander Beauchamp
Disappeared and in his place
Was Bobby Beauchamp.

Once a month,
Bobby would follow the river
Down to a little town
In the bayou.

Once a month,
He would find himself
In the company of Mona Belle,
A woman the colour
Of a moonless night,
Who was as familiar to him
As he was to himself.

She would ask about
His wife and kids
And he would ask about
Her daughter,
His daughter,
Their daughter
Who knew him as Pa Bear.

In those few days,
Bobby felt at ease,
He felt at home.
In the little house
He had built,
He was not afraid
Of being himself.

The love he felt for Mona
Was not one of duty,
But something deeper,
Something real and tangible,
And he knew that
She loved him not
For his station in life,
In society, she loved him
Because he was Bobby Beauchamp.

As the years passed,
He spent more and more time
In the little house in the bayou,
Until one day, he never
Returned to the little town
Where he was the pastor.

He simply disappeared, and
As he was such an upstanding man,
The townsfolk suspected the worse,
A terrible accident
Had claimed the reverend's life.

There was a memorial service
And the family was left to grieve.
Soon time faded the memory
Of Reverend Beauchamp,
But every now and then,
His name would be mentioned.

Some cousin from another town
Thought they had seen him down river.
Someone else thought they saw him
At a college graduation, but
The only Beauchamp graduating
Was a black woman
By the name of Alexandria.

Rev. Robert Alexander Beauchamp
Had built the life
That was expected of him.
He had married a respectable woman,
He lived in a fine house
With a white picket fence,
He had three children
Who never fidgeted
As they sat in the first pew,
But the reverend was unhappy.

He was living the life
Others believed he should be living,
But the life he wanted
Included a black woman
Who loved him unconditionally
And a precocious girl
Who saw only goodness in him.

As he got older,
He realized that
It was better to live the life
You wanted than
Try to please everyone else.

So Rev. Robert Alexander Beauchamp died
So that Bobby Beauchamp may live,
So that he may love,
So that he may be the man
Bobby Beauchamp wanted to be.

To get your copy
of this collection
of poems,
click here.
Monday, February 6, 2012 7 words I am thankful for



We are…..

Lost souls drifting
On the planes
Of our existences
And somehow,
In some way
We collided.

Was it fate?
Was it planned?
Was it to be?

Our magnetism
Stronger than
My logic,
Your situation,
My desires,
Your reality.

Although our gravities
Pulled us together,
Even though we found
Home in each others
Embrace, we must

Like a stoic warrior,
I walk away,
Chin in the air,
Stride, sure and strong,
But I dare not look back.

I dare not open
My heart, exposing it
To the shifting tides of
Emotions that promise
To overwhelm me,
To confuse me.

To leave me like
A child wanting to be
Held and never,
Ever be released.

I won't look back
Because there is no
Just me trying to find

Submitted to dVerse Open Link
Friday, February 3, 2012 1 words I am thankful for


I smiled at him,
Not because he was
Attractive, breathtaking,
Intriguing, charming.
It was the genuine Rolex
That caught my interest.

This man, I told myself,
Will be my husband.
I will charm him
And delight him.
I will do things to him
That no woman his age
Would ever dare do,
And just like that
He will be mine.

What would it take?
Three months,
Six months before
He proposed to me
With a big rock from
Tiffanys that screams wealth,
That screams that
I am to be the madam
Of all his estates.

Oh, I could see
The hundreds of thousands
Of dollars sitting
In his bank accounts.
The rustle of Benjamins
Always makes my heart
Go pitter patter.

Momma always said that
To find a rich husband
Spend time in the bars
Of swanky hotels
And it seems like
Dear ole mama was right.

There was no better time
Than the present so
I drank the last of my cosmo
And took a nice lazy stroll
Across to my man
Ensuring he got a good look.

A good look at
My small waist,
My full hips
And my generous bosom
All brought to us
By God and
Dr. Jenkins.

Oh Lord!
Who was this sitting next
To my husband to be?
Oh I know that look.
Looks like Richy Rich
Is already taken,
So I moseyed on out
Of the swanky bar
In the swanky hotel
And into a cab.

The night is still young
And the bait is still fresh
So to another bar and
Hopefully to another big fish
For me to lure in
And catch.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012 11 words I am thankful for


I needed a phone.

My car had broken down
For the umpteenth time,
My cell phone battery had died
And I found myself
In a part of town
I've never stepped foot in.

I needed a phone
To call my boyfriend
To pick me up,
And in the morning,
I would call a tow truck
To deal with my car.

I made my way
Around the corner
To a dive bar
With the intention
Of going and
Getting out with the quickness.

When I stepped in
I realized that this
Was not your typical bar.
For one the only man present
Was the bartender
But a few of the patrons
Could pass for men.

As I stood by the bar,
Waiting for the bartender
To come my way,
A huge woman appeared.

She had more swagger
Than Kanye West
On a good day
And her rap was
No different from that
Of the guys on the corner.

In a curt, "don't mess with me" tone,
I informed her that
I was not interested,
I was straight,
I had a man.

She stepped into
My space,
My personal space,
My "you really in my space?" space,
My "I will knock your ass out!" space.

She continued to say
That she could do things
That no man can do
For a woman.

Clenching my fist,
I stepped back,
Saying "Excuse me"
Through gritted teeth.

I did an about turn
And made my way to the exit.
I was not about to start
A fight on foreign ground,
Not knowing my opponent
Or if she had backup.

As I stepped out,
I felt the cool night air
But became very aware
Of the warmth coming
From someone behind me.

She had followed me out.

Not wanting to continue
The "conversation",
I walked quickly to my car.

Just as I reached for
The door handle
She grabbed me.

She pinned me to the hood,
Using one hand,
She hiked up my skirt,
She ripped away my panties.

Roughly, she pried open my legs,
Then pinned them in place,
Leaving me immobile,
Then she went in.

Licking and sucking,
Dipping and nipping.
My body responded
Despite my protests,
My trying to strike her,
Hit her, scratch her
And without my permission,
An orgasm was ripped
Out of my body.

I laid there,
Thinking this was the extent
Of the violation,
Tears forming in my eyes
But I refused to let
Them fall.

Then I felt something
Push against my core.
I looked down
To see her impaling me
With a strap on,
A fake dick.

She drove into me
With no mercy,
And just when I thought
I would be ripped apart,
She found her release
And as a result,
My body was released.

I laid there
For a second or two
In a state of confusion.
What just happened here?

She removed the strap on
And fixed her clothes,
Her expression daring me to move,
My body was too used
For me to be able to fight.

She smiled at me,
"You liked that, didn't you?
I told you I can do things
A man could never do."

She extracted a card
From her back pocket
And tossed it at me.
"Call me if you want more."
Then she was gone.

I picked up the card,
The shock of what happened
Fading away.

I was just raped
By a woman named

What was I going to do?
How was I going
To tell my boyfriend?
What was I going
To tell the police?
How was I going
To tell them that
One of their own
Was raped by a woman
Named Rebecca?

I shimmied off the hood,
And pulled down my skirt,
My panties were nowhere
To be found, Rebecca
Most likely had them.

I paced back and forth,
My car was still broken down,
My cell phone battery was still dead,
I was just raped,
All the while I debated
What to do next.

Should I become
One of the many women
Who remain silent
With hopes that the memories
Fade away with the passing of time?

Or should I tell
My boyfriend, the police,
The doctors, the District Attorney,
The judge, the jurors,
The world that
I was raped?

I stopped pacing
And walked in the opposite direction
Of the bar.
I needed a phone.

I found a 24/7 corner store
Two blocks away,
I called my boyfriend and
I told him, then
I called 911 and
I told them.

A year later,
Rebecca stood at
The defense table,
The jury's verdict being read.
Guilty as charged.

She thought she would
Never be arrested.
What woman would admit
That she was raped
By a woman?

At the trial,
Evidence was presented,
My panties that the police
Had found on her. My DNA
On the strap on
They had found on her.

During the trial,
Other women came forth,
Their stories no different
From mine.
The last count was twenty.

Knowing her fate was sealed,
Rebecca confessed to all her rapes.
A total of thirty six,
Thirty five too many.

All it would have taken
Was one woman
To stand up,
To tell her story,
To take this monster
Off the street.

It's just sad that
It had to be me,
The thirty sixth, to do so.

It doesn't matter if it's
A woman or a man,
An adult or a child,
An uncle or an aunt,
A father or a mother,
A grandfather or a family friend,
Violence is violence,
Sexual assault is sexual assault.
Tell your story,
Someone will listen.

Submitted to dVerse & Jingle Poetry