The Poetry Project

So I'm starting a new project.  I am so very tired of all the negativity of this world--of the politically charged anger and hatred being preached from varying outlets.  I have decided to do something about it. This blog is all about love.  It is all about connectivity; about travelling far beyond the scope of … Continue reading The Poetry Project

Nov. 23, 2014.  Emiliano Zapata Sur, a neighborhood of Merida, Yucatan, Mexico. Mari, 24 years old, with her son Jose, who was born in Orlando during the seven years she lived there. "My mother and my two brothers are still in Florida. My dad tried to join us but he was deported five times. I returned to Merida two years ago to be with my dad." Credit: Lonnie Schlein/UEBLONG

The Plight of the Immigrant

She's not from here. Where she's from isn't so far away, but it felt far. It felt far when the scathing heat of a desert sun caramelized her skin, burning at the tender flesh that sizzled beneath the touch of light. It felt far when her legs threatened to collapse like trees in a forest, … Continue reading The Plight of the Immigrant


America the Beautiful…(damn she’s hot)

My last post was about coming home. And this post won't be much different. Except, I'm not talking about a house, I'm talking about a nation. Some of you have questioned my nationalism. And that's okay, I get it. I understand. I hear you. But you should know that I wear these shit kickers with … Continue reading America the Beautiful…(damn she’s hot)


The Collective We…because there is nothing else.

I remember going down to Mexico in high school to build houses. I remember the rains, fierce rains that made our work impossible; I remember sleeping nearly on top of the girl beside me, us huddling together for warmth, her snoring keeping me awake and enraged all night, stewing in my sleeping bag. But mostly, … Continue reading The Collective We…because there is nothing else.