Hot and Steamy Like Mississippi

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Greetings, from heat-wave plagued Harlem! Man, it’s been a little like home these past few days. Even on hot days like these New York still has plenty to offer in terms of free, air-conditioned fun!

Last week, I found myself at both the Metropolitan Museum of Art (amazing Sargent exhibit), and the Studio Museum of Harlem (where the artists in residence had new exhibits up), drinking in the art of classical and contemporary artists alike.

Wandering down Museum Mile and 125th street, I stumbled upon Albertine, a French/English bookstore, and a sidewalk reminder that gave me the push I needed to finish a passion project I have been working on for a few months now.

Maybe it’s because I’m a June baby, maybe it’s because I love summer and heat (to a certain extent) but summer 2015 is pulling out all the stops and I am blissfully chugging along.

Ciao 🙂

Vacancy

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I live here...

there is a place for you here

inside, you’ll find a hook for your coat

a spot for your shoes

and a chair to ease your weary feet.


there is a space for you here

inside of my heart

where the caverns and vessels have been cleared for your presence

to pump in and out of me

becoming a part of me


you are welcome here

you are wanted here

you are already here


will you find your place, your space, your nook in the crannies left waiting for you?

better yet, is there a space inside of you as cozy, as warm, as welcoming for me?

or is your door rusted shut, with the curtains drawn and the lights sitting dormant waiting for the true resident to fill this vacancy of yours?

Tuesday Thoughts

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IMG_7804miss: transitive verb, to discover or feel the absence of


i miss you.

it isn’t the physical missing that i feel, but its the constant presence of you.

sure, you’re in my thoughts, my days,

and i hate to admit aloud,

my dreams

but the nearness of you is what i miss

the way the air changes when you’re in it

how the electric spark is not as strong when you go missing

gone

not for long

only for a day, an hour, a moment

but the longing i feel compounds on top of itself and i wonder

is this what happens when you’re miles below the earth

or in deep, dark, unchartered waters

with no flicker of sunlight or starlight remind you of the sky

to discover or feel the absence of you is unfair

because none of these feelings would exist

if you hadn’t discovered

me

Open

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To have an open heart allows you to see the world differently

the small things in hold exquisite beauty and large acts of love and kindness propel you forward, adding accelerant to your dreams and aspirations

but wearing your heart on your sleeve makes you 

vulnerable

sensitive

trusting

leaving you out in the open picking up the pieces of unrealistic expectations and abandoned hopes you had in others

sometimes your days are clouded with a haze of

second-guessing

self-doubt

internal disappointment

 

but never you worry or fret though…

because even in the strongest storms lie moments of peace and stillness which allow you to

catch your breath

awaken your senses

dream, allowing the numbness to subside and enable the sunshine to cast a brighter glow

 

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Every Day Is My Mom’s Day

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Every Day Is My Mom's Day

To my mother:
A woman so strong and true
She was the woman who “knew what to do”
Holding my hand through good times and bad
Giving me the assurance I needed whenever I cried
While this poem is short is comes from the heart
Joann Mickens, I love you.
I wish there was more I could say.
But through my words and my actions
I’ll be the best at all that I do
That is all that I pray.