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This is for my dMb family.

This is for my dMb family.

Dearest dMb family,

I wrote this prosy poem last semester, and wanted to share it with you. I hope you enjoy, and I can’t wait to see some of you on the next tour.

Peace, Love, and dMb forever!

Seek Up An Emotion

The melody floats above the crowd, creating an audible sculpture that drenches the earth with love. The bass keeps us pulsating, and the strings slide with such grace. While the snare echoes in the fog, the Taylor drips with deep emotion. A mellow note from the saxophone softens the mood. Coming together, they fill the souls of “five billion proud.” Letting the music flow through our veins, the dancing silhouettes become one shadow. At this moment, our lives are suddenly swept away.

Writing is Therapy

Writing is Therapy

This afternoon after running some errands, I found myself at a local Starbucks. I couldn’t say no to complementing this beautiful fall day with a soy chai latte. :) While waiting for the barista to make my order. We got to chatting, and she asked me where I worked. After telling her I tutor writers on campus, it opened the door for a brief discussion on writing, and how therapeutic it really can be.

Writing is something I do for many reasons. I use it mostly as a release and therapy, to improve my education on certain subjects, to communicate… really the list goes on. One thing I have learned through my writing is that I must write for myself. I used to always think “what do people want to read?” I soon found out I wasn’t happy with writing with that question in mind. I produced better poetry, prose, and even journal entries when I was writing from my heart, and not for the eyes of others.

A very good friend told me to start writing for myself. When you let go of all apprehensions of what to put down on to paper, you might be surprised to see what you’ve composed. If you can let go of the fear inside of what someone might think if they read your writing, you will open so many doors. I can personally testify to this – when I took the poetry class last year I learned how to let go of some of that fear. It wasn’t gone, and it still isn’t. What is important here is that I try each time I jot a paragraph in my journal, write a blog, or make a note in my planner. If I write for me, I can let things go. It has worked in the past. Sometimes I feel the struggle of when I don’t know what to write… the thought crosses my mind “I wonder who will read this…” but then I stop myself. It doesn’t matter who will read what I write, because I write for me. Of course, I’d love to gain a large following and write books that make the best seller’s lists. I realize now that the goal is obtainable, since I have stopped writing for readers. I write for me, and that’s what really makes me happy.

vexatious adoration

vexatious adoration

a perfect stencil
drawn by hand
scrawled onto the
blank canvas of my back
the hum of the gun
needle drenched in
a deep sky blue
anxiety flows
until it touches
my skin

a cat scratch
a bad scrape
the pain is nothing
and everything
solidifying the
between me
and my conviction

Originally published in the Fall 2009 issue of genesis – The Art and Literary Magazine of IUPUI