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
I'm sitting on the mountaintop, my chest heaving with the exertion, my dog half dead beside me, poor thing, I forgot she had such tiny little legs compared to mine. She doesn't seem to mind, though. She crawls up onto my lap and licks at the tender skin that lines my wrist, her tongue crossing … Continue reading Must Love Dogs
When I lean down to smell the wild flowers, their dew soaked petals, soft like velvet, brush up against my lips. It is the sweetest, most fragrant kiss I've ever felt. When I reach out to tangle my fingers in the long grasses of the fields, their blade like leaves cling to my skin. … Continue reading Let us Wander
So I went to a march last Sunday. A peaceful protest. A communal sign of support. Let's just call it a love walk; I'm running out of synonyms. It was at our local Islamic Community Center, a mosque with golden spires that, at the onset, appears out of place in that little residential community. But … Continue reading Can’t Stop Love
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
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)
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.