Monday, January 25, 2010


Peacocks, so deep in color
A work of art
Imagine you a brilliant bird
Open up your train of colors
Everyone enamored stares
A feeling of anticipation and excitement
Take heed
Take in the beauty
This rarity of colors, blue is the deepest
The truest shade of blue
You're strong like a roaring sea
Don't hide your colors from me
If you hide I'll wither inside
All I have is the truest shade of blue
You're infinitely precious
Spread your train of colors brazenly
You hid for too long
And now you face the world
Your feathers radiant
Your eyes a poetic veil
Tell me your mystery
by: Denise

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Your Life is Like a Play

Your life is like a play with several acts. Some of the characters who enter have short roles to play, others, much larger. Some are villains and others are good guys. But all of them are necessary, otherwise they wouldn't be in the play. Embrace them all, and move on to the next act. Page 81
Source: Dr. Waynes Dyer's 10 Secrets for Success and Inner Peace

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

You Just Don't Understand

What I read today pertaining to conversational styles between men and women:
In an article I wrote for The Washington Post, I presented a conversation that had taken place between a couple in their car. The woman had asked, "Would you like to stop for a drink?" Her husband had answered truthfully, "No", and they hadn't stopped. He was later frustrated to learn that his wife was annoyed because she had wanted to stop for a drink. He wondered, "Why didn't she just say what she wanted? Why did she play games with me?" The wife, I explained, was annoyed not because she had not gotten her way, but because her preference had not been considered. From her point of view, she had shown concern for her husband's wishes, but he had shown no concern for hers. Page 15
Source: Deborah Tannen, You Just Don't Understand

Wednesday, September 2, 2009


Maybe my limbs are made
mostly for decoration,
like the way I feel about
persimmons. You can’t
really eat them. Or you
wouldn’t want to. If you grab
the soft skin with your fist
it somehow feels funny,
like you’ve been here
before and uncomfortable,
too, like you’d rather
squish it between your teeth
impatiently, before spitting
the soft parts back up
to linger on the tongue like
burnt sugar or guilt.
For starters, it was all
an accident, you cut
the right branch
and a sort of light
woke up underneath,
and the inedible fruit
grew dark and needy.
Think crucial hanging.
Think crayon orange.
There is one low, leaning
heart-shaped globe left
and dearest, can you
tell, I am trying
to love you less.
by: Ada Limón
(The New Yorker)

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Eyes Darkening with Desire

The mockery of charm,
And sweet aroma of forbidden fruit,
The fleeting moment of your touch,
A closer glimpse of bright colors,
Powerful words are discovered,
Creativity is conceived,
Daring minds are united under the moonlight,
We create music in every conversation,
Clever and honest with divine inspiration--a friendship unknown.
by: Denise

Saturday, September 20, 2008

I Smiled at her Honesty

Suddenly she was soft, and beautiful. The veil was parted, and there she was-a beautiful woman. Gone was the resignation; gone were the anxiety and pain. She was, for a moment, at rest. I smiled at her honesty.-Captivating