Poetry, Revelations, Stories


As I wake up, yet another early day,
Groggy, foggy, tired already,
Alas, I must carry on,
Drag my feet to work, counting the hours,
Checking my phone, blinking rapidly to keep myself awake,

But wait! What is that wondrous smell? Flowers?
I must venture outside, my career is at stake!
As I absorb the sunlight,
My body feels rejuvenated,
I walk back inside, blinking again to adjust my sight,

Plan a run, some rollerblading, a workout at the gym, a swim,

Finish the day, can’t wait to play,
A sport for exercise and fun in the sun,
Because a couch potato gets depressed faster than an athlete,
Someone active can stay awake late and still wake up early to compete,
In a race, a soccer game, or a foot race down the street,

Simply put, put your feet to the pavement or grass,
If you want unity between your body, mind and soul,
And as an added treat, to tone that ass.




Lurking right behind you,

Wants to get to know you,

Claims he isn’t…she isn’t…looking for a one-time-thing,

Not a one-night stand, hook up or fling,

Take her out on a night on the town,

Show her around,

Make her head spin,

Fill her with giggles and a sheepish grin,

The tension rises,

The realization sets in,

What have I done?

I let him win,

After all, all she needed to do was act like her girlfriend…

She was just waiting for him to make a move,

Woman or man, the sexual chemistry built and released…a lustful Shadow,

Spent, he is happy and smiling, he falls asleep,

But don’t blink…because before you know it, it’s dawn,

He’s no longer there…just a faint imprint on one side of your sheets.


The Pain Before the Leak

16, 17, 18…no problems…not even a cramp…

19, 20…a hit and run…stop it with a tamp,

21…oh 21,

The birth control, the shot, the pill, the latex,

Just so I can worry not about a drastic change in my life, to keep having sex,

22…oh 22,

A whole new set of problems, boo hoo…for you

Can eat this, can’t drink that,

Think that’s all but the pain has only just begun,

7 days of torture, one hell of a battle but the war is always won,

By none other than my inner mother nature,

The same one kicking my insides, making me indecisive, unsure,

Sad, happy, angry, tired and oh so overwhelmed,

And when mother nature meets father gastro, all hell breaks loose,

Feelings go flying, pain is unbearable, debilitating…but manageable,

Do a 180, drop him, drop that, leave there, start over,

A process of elimination, no more lover,

No more pasta, bread or cheese,

No more comfort foods, the chocolate has been seized,

Mix it all together and what have you got?

Nausea, fatigue, cramps, urgency, headache and a loss of will.

Write your will, will you?

Oh no! Life is hard but that’s the point. It’s a thrill.


Taco and Salad: IBS Version


So I found these corn tortilla shells that only need about 10 seconds in a pan each side before they’re ready.

This is a simple recipe. It was a Clubhouse Gluten-free Sloppy Joe seasoning with tomato paste according to the recipe.

I added salt and pepper and italian herb seasoning.

Followed by:

  • A handful of kale (wash and rub down to remove some of that biterness)
  • half a jalapeno pepper (minced)
  • half a large carrot (diced or shaved)
  • 1/4 of a purple onion (sliced thinly)
  • Red or “black” grapes (cut in halves)
  • Secret sweet and spicy salad dressing
  • I’ve made this with a different dressing before: Try about 2 tbsp lemon juice, 1 tsp brown sugar, 1 tbsp cayenne and ground chili pepper and 3 tbsp olive oil OR 1 tbsp maple syrup and 2 tbsp water

Top that off with Boylan’s caramel and coloring-free (meaning no butter which makes caramel) drink – my choice was ginger ale – and voila! Make a double-decker like this one or a triple-decker if you’re more adventurous and eat.

Eventually I’ll have better portioned out meals and recipes but for now, I make everything using my instinct and “skillful hands” to liven my meals up. Tell me what you guys think!

Poetry, Revelations

Poking the Beast Within

Everyone has that beast,

That itch, that twitch, that need, the greed,

Feed it, grow it, let it rise with ease,

Until one day, the air is cut short,

And you find yourself on your knees,

Begging for your fix, the sugar, drug or drink,

Everyone watching, staring at you while you sink,

It’s the titanic all over again,

But that ID is what set you on this reckless path,

What overpowered the ego duo,

So how do you bring yourself back to realty?

Remember that beast?

That sabertooth? Scorch? Desire?

Channels…swim through the channel,

Go through the motions,

Channel that energy into creativity,

That’s what makes artists, musicians and actress alike,

It’s your original thought, what makes you, you, and what makes me, me.