Untitled #2

I could stand somewhere in the middle

Calling for the mountains to meet me in the city

For peace to meet amidst the chaos

For hate to yield to energy soaked in love and healing

Acknowledging with necessity how merely standing in the middle

abandons hope of ever choosing a side.



I fought for you…
I allowed my guard to leave its post..I stand unprotected.
Yet, I am willing to lay down my arms for you…my scars obvious,
Evidence in the tears that soak your shirt..I feel at home here…
listening to your heart beat, praying it spoke my name,
constant, repeating, repeating, repeating a rhythm only I can hear.
I am listening, anxious and forgiven…
apologies for standing in the rain when its you that has called me to shelter.
My mouth pursed to scream out how sorry I am for falling against the weight of this easy love.
No, no, no apologies, nirvana…
I am most alive against your skin.
I can breathe when you share your breath with me..I can taste the life that escapes your lips,
sweet indica and promises of days ahead to get me through this moment right now…
I struggle to feel worthy though I am begging you to keep from going numb to this…
Faded, this pain in my chest seems to swallow me on most occasions.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, seemingly worlds away…
merely praying for that hands that tie my thoughts to let me go, loosen the grip…
let me get lost in a place unseen until your eyes invited me in…don’t remind me how fragile, how temporary-
this all could be- the last love I ever know, a matter of perspective and I am unable to change the view-after all, I fought for you….

This Night

On this night, I rolled over waiting for the brown warmth of your skin to touch mine

like a secret mission I couldn’t tell you I needed you closer,but I moved in

making my way towards the place that feels most like home.

I feel this way most nights when you’re on your side and I’m on mine

don’t get me wrong I love my space

but I prefer you in it,

prefer you spend it making my body sing sweet and wet.

You know the language only my body speaks and when my mouth can’t find the words,

you finish my sentence, my thoughts.

Turn to this life we live and how I dreamed of it long before…

how it now feels over and just beginning all at once…

how the feeling of wholeness has absorbed all traces of the scraps left behind by those who were never worthy in the first place,

in the first moment when they were even considered…

this wholeness has been delivered by the warmth of your brown skin and protected by the sticky bliss that I lick from my lips after they have met yours.

It’s over….

I no longer have to wait, you have arrived and when it feels as tho the absence of anticipation might drag me down I realize my path has gotten wider,

enough room for you to walk beside me, tapering in short distances where you’ve carried me already…

my path has become much more than a way to my last days but a way to my last daze having spent it soaked in a love that couldn’t be topped by anything less than a spiritual exchange, a love resting gently in the stars, having waited to be plucked at that perfect moment-

my sky, my universe came to earth, manifested as man, my man…you hold my hand, I can’t seem to let you go, fading into you, into the moon….I’ll follow you….



[ree-burth, ree-burth]


a new or second birth :

the rebirth of the soul.


a renewed existence, activity, or growth; renaissance or revival:

the rebirth of conservatism.

I have always been a writer. In my mind. Occasionally pen finds paper and a few twenty pages in a pretty ill journal…smells familiar. Empty pages though.

I suppose we will see how this goes. A little bit of everything. No “I’m a music junkie mom of 4” bio-tagline-niki-keepin’-it-100-hiphop-forever-birdwatchin-buddhist-wannabe blah, blah, blah…I’m laughing now. Yes, a little bit of everything but mostly nothing…a gemini…with intentions on lightravel…travelight

travelight, gemini.

I make grammatical error.

I fly from one subject to the next


thought process

my thought process (G.O.O.D.I.E.)

cell therapy and attempts at fuller pages

lighter travel.

I guess we could make this “revival” all poetic or whatever, and call it a return or even a rebirth. Because here I am a mother, a full time professional, a full time student, a full time thinker and worrier, flitting from one thought to another, attempting a blog. I feel called to write more often. I prefer to write with a really good pen or pencil. I think I have a better shot going digital. I am not sure who will find this blog or who I will share it with. I can promise only myself for now. Constant musical connotations and references, sex, race, money, superficial politics, actin’ like I know, old thoughts, new beliefs, is what first comes to mind. I write for healing perhaps. Or maybe to fulfill this sudden desire to make sure I am seen as more than all of that regular ish. What IS that?! I’m still too scared. Pretty funny as I grow older to become a little more withdrawn but in a happier, introspective way. I’m probably gonna spout some pretty contrived “universe, karma…I am trying to reap goodness and grow everyday” hilariousness. Ahh well. Trying to stay ahead of what’s heavy. Unload.

I’m gonna change my mind. I need it to be easy.