I am a seasoned hospitality professional and aspiring writer. I especially love poetry and experimenting with different styles. My inspiration comes from personal life events and I am known to root for the "underdog." I am 49 years young.
The Last Sunflower
I can still feel the energy surging through my veins in a fireball explosion as a sheet of blue electricity struck down from the heavens immobilizing me. I will never forget the smell of my long black hair singeing at the tips or the sight of a smoke bomb escaping every threaded inch of my clothing. An eternity of torture amassed in moments yet I survived. Physically, I escaped with burns only to my palms. Mentally, my brains were fried and scrambled like freshly cut potatoes sizzling in oil and my morning eggs prepared just the way I like them. A decade ago, this was my ascending orchestrated by The Creator calling me to rise for the sake of humanity.
Who Is She?
A sweet little girl smiled at me this morning Beaming from ear to ear with such radiance She stirred up feelings of safety and warmth Likened to shelter of any welcoming home * Although a stranger, I could not shake her My heart yearning for answers questioned Of all people in this world, why this child? Something was familiar yet still out of place * Leaving me with the a weighted burden And an unanswered question: Who is she? * Perhaps it was her golden spun pigtails Gentle spirals bouncing off her shoulders Soft and spongey like shortcake springing Back after a gentle push with one finger * Her coils reminded me of my childhood Mornings, wakening, leaping out of bed Bounding to the television set greeting Bugs Bunny & all his Looney Tune pals * Memories of a savory taste yet unfulfilled Starving to still understand: who is she? * Maybe it was her hazel eyes swirling Jade & coffee tones speckling bronze Her eyes were twins to my very own But hers were a widened revelation * Water encircled each iris overflowing Like a river feeding an ocean of dreams Two twinkling stars shining her emotions She held an ever gaze of wonder & surprise * Seeing her so clearly ignited my smoldering coals A burning desire; innate, to know: Who is she? * Perchance, it was her incorruptibility A tender age of innocence exploring All options without resistance or fear Oblivious to all judgement or rejection * Her soul was free and most willing Not shrouded in shame or confined Instead, poised & buoyantly soaring To heights often avoided with age * Her ambiance struck a buried chord in me Recovered notes responding to" who is she”? * A sweet little girl smiled at me this morning At first sight she was just a pleasant stranger Inviting me to know her better prompting Another look into my mirror to fairly reflect * She sat there staring back at me urging Me to remember; once again connect Too many years passed by dismissing The inner child in me longing for freedom * A promise to let her play releasing repression Reunited me with the she who is in fact, me!
I shall ask one question you must ponder How can sunsets cause sight to become blurred? Morrow's sunrise offers you fresh wonder
To Pick an Oxeye Daisy
May you always recall the day we met Mid month in June; my skies were so hazy Of all flowers blooming, you could beget You only saw me; an oxeye daisy
Woman of Rainbows (Shamanic Journey)
I am Woman of Rainbows This is my Shamanic journey * I close my eyes falling fast asleep Completely aware of my dream state
80's Playlist of a Teenage Underdog
"I've always been seen as the underdog in everything I've ever done in life, and it doesn't bother me in the slightest. The lessons have just made me stronger." - Victor Ortiz
I Am Ready for the Revival of Modern Subculture in 2021
I was born in 1971 and from early childhood I developed a love for fashion. Having a talented Mum who could sew taught me as a little girl about creativity and the importance of owning my individuality. Looking at old photographs of her in the United Kingdom made me appreciate different styles and patterns. Rummaging through her closet to run my little fingers across the fabric of classic pieces she saved, inspired a sweet nostalgia in me for a decade which although before my time was my earliest inspiration in fashion. The era of Modernist Subculture struck a fancy in me and I am ready for its revival today in 2021.
Learning To Appreciate Creative Differences
Gia slipped into her English class at the tail end of the final bell hoping to go undetected but her five foot eleven posture towered over the majority of her classmates. Her jet black pixie cut and ice blue eyes intensified her presence along with her unique flare for fashion. She scurried along to her assigned seat; four rows in and third desk back with her head held down dressed in a Naruto t shirt displaying her love for anime. The ruffles of her flowy black skirt, one of her personal designs swung off her slim frame like a top model walking the runway. Her retro combat boots gave her look some confidence yet in reality she was uncomfortable in social settings always feeling out of place and alone. Flopping down onto the hard metal chair, she closed her eyes hoping and praying that perhaps this would finally be the day she would catch a lucky break…