January 22, 2014

We are all born with dis-ease. creative medicine

Dis-ease is an illness that weakens our creative immune system. These maladies can include our thoughts of lack and limitation, our insecurities about our body, what may or may not be in our bank accounts, what others may think of us… it’s a long list of ailments that if left untreated, can lead to chronic pain and ultimately leave us creatively paralyzed.

What are the dis-eases affecting you lately? What are the places that you need to treat with your creative medicine? Our bodies have healing properties; we are fortunate that both the treatment and the cure are within us.

Mine is writing.

Others paint, sing, workout their bodies, dance, play a sport, practice yoga or do a combination of treatments. I have found that when I stop writing, when I don’t adhere to my “medication regiment,” I become ill. My symptoms increase both spiritually and physically. I begin to question myself, my body aches for no reason and my overall health weakens me into a state of indifference.

So why is it, that having both the treatment and the cure within us, do we find it so difficult to “take” a dose of what can begin to make us feel better? For me, it’s about an infection that we are susceptible to during a flare-up of the dis-ease. I call it bacterial bullshit. A microorganism that makes us believe that dis-ease is a state we need to live in because after all, we are born with it.

There are so many days I doubt my writing. I believe my medicine is ineffective. But unlike man-made medicines, your body doesn’t become resistant to your dose of creativity. And you can always alter the dosage by adding an adjuvant medication. Give your creative medicine reinforcement.

This natural dis-ease is our inner self in conflict with our outer self; a battle between who we are and who we want to be. If our body has already given us the treatment and cure for it, then we need to give our creative body its medicine. Daily. STAT. Medication adherence is crucial to symptom management.

Write. Sing. Dance. Yoga… you can never overdose on creative medicine. Actually, your overdose spills into those around you and you are able to heal others as well. It’s why people show up to poetry slams, theaters, concerts, museums and other creative spaces.

We are all in need of daily doses of creativity, of those things that remove us from ourselves and move us toward our Self.

If you’re experiencing dis-ease and your symptoms are present, I encourage you to make a promise to write one word today, sing one note today, dance one step today…

Today. Now. The quicker you take the medicine the quicker you will begin to heal.

dig at the wound

February 26, 2013

sometimes the weight of my pen is heavy with fears and uncertainties
the cramping in my hand makes it difficult to write clearly; if at all.
so i scribble a little only to put the pen down because quite honestly, i’m tired.

life is happening.

all its wretched. all its beauty.

why is it that sometimes we turn away from the thing that helps us the most?
i mean, for me writing is healing. why am i not taking my medicine?

it is because sometimes to heal something you must first injure it more. go deeper
into the wounds to really get at it. and that’ just it. that part is the hardest in writing.
putting the pretty poetry aside or the warm reflections off to write through some of the things
i always have a hard time writing about.

my fears. my uncertainties. my elephant in the room. my anger (which i tend to keep in check because
i’ve been told it doesn’t “suit” me).

i haven’t even written it down in the pages i don’t publish for fear they may be discovered.
what can possibly have taken me to that place where i feel i can’t write my story down on a page
that will not be seen?

i will write. my story must be told,
even if it’s just to my self.

i must dig at the wound to really heal. so must you. so must all.

that’s poetry

September 21, 2012

poetry has not escaped me.

it sits quietly in the corner
of my breathing room.

allowing me to write
in places
without rhyme and reason

…without ink.

in her kisses,
and my cousin’s laughter.
in the company of a friend
or the phone conversation
with my so-grown nephew.

the poem writes itself
without writing.

poetry isn’t just the spoken word
it is also the word unspoken…
the word we Feel.


June 25, 2012

the most difficult time
in this poet’s lifetime
is this time

this isn’t a dark time
it’s just a long time

seconds last hours

and i have no interest in writing about it

gestation of a book

January 26, 2012

for three years.
three long years…

i’ve been experiencing
morning sickness.
throwing up the words
of my childhood,
into this book.

my swollen hands
can’t hold a pen long enough
to wait for this embryo
of letters to take the form of words.

this lyrical fetus
but the chapters
drown in water retention.

so i am giving birth to pre-mature poetry…
before the umbilical cord strangles this piece of me.
hoping in an incubator,
truth will develop in the lungs of this poetic child.