Dear Unsealers,

The 8th of March is International Women’s Day.

I wanted to show a measure of gratitude to the women in my life, from my mom, sister and all of my female friends and acquaintances. Today, tomorrow and all of the days that follow.

It’s with that idea in mind, that the following poem comes from…

On International Women’s Day
A shout out to all the women

From all walks, ages of life
And all corners of the globe

Showing backbone that keeps the world together
Through shows of tenacity, strength, kindness and love

I ought to know this for sure
For their courage and ambition
Coming to the forefront time and again

I look up to the women in my life
My mother, my sister and oh so many more
As their encouragement makes me who I am

We celebrate them and admire them
Every day of the year, not just today

I am a work in progress

Orphan baby that time stole

As I figure out my role

Though sometime just a hot mess

I try to find my true self

Racing time against its toll

Challenging my self control

While maintaining mental health

The haters and the lovers

Inspire my will to thrive

And my desire to stay alive

Lest I dive under the covers

So, in stepping out of bed

I take steps toward my goal

Like a newborn baby foal

To live life outside my head

I am writing to remind you that the way you love yourself—is also the way you allow others to love you as well. I am writing to remind you that loving yourself means more than simply loving the parts that you are most proud of.

It is peeling back the perceptions, misconceptions, and projections. It is loving past, present and future you; all the varied iterations beloved anew. It is gazing longingly within. It is lifting the veil—accepting and releasing all you’ve been: the monsters and angels both.

It is forgiveness for not always being the very best version of yourself, allowing even you to make mistakes. It is making peace with yourself so you can be at peace with other people. It is pure inner G/energy.

It is preemptively setting the stage each day—via your preferred method of attaining your most aware state—so that your focus is maintained on fun and play—simply because you deserve to feel good. Allowing each day to be dimpled with love and laughter as each could.

It is being capable of keeping commitments to yourself. Where self compassion and self actualization meet, love is an endless well. The more that you pour into yourself, the more you become a living self love spell. Such great love can only expand to reach everyone else.

I am writing to remember that the way I love myself is also the way I allow others to love me as well. I am writing to remember that loving myself means more than simply loving the parts that I am most proud of.

I am writing to remember.

I am most beautiful
When I am myself
In the most
Raw and vulnerable form
After I’ve danced
And my hair sticks
To my sweaty forehead
After I’ve laughed so hard
My smile can’t help but linger
Once I am done crying
Alone on my dirty floors
And I look into the mirror
Staring into my puffy eyes
I think,
I love her
She dances
She laughs
She feels feelings so loudly
And she loves even louder
She is most beautiful
In these moments

Dear Unsealers,

It’s the first day of March.

A new month has just begun. 31 new days to make them as we wish.

As the new month begins, it’s a season of transitition. From adding more daylight to the days, to the first traces of spring appearing.

With the new month beginning, it’s my custom to welcome it in verse.

A moment to welcome the month of March
31 new days have just arrived

A month that’s full of transitions
From the clocks switching ahead an hour
To winter’s last hurrah, as spring knocks on the door

To celebrate patron saints, Lá fhéile Pádraig & Dydd Gwyl Dewi
And painting the town green, in honor of Cerebral Palsy Awareness Month

As the UEFA Euros finalize their 24, MLS & the NWSL begin and MLB’s just a first pitch away
The Madness of 68 college basketball teams reigns

The first quarter of 2024, its ending coming near
There is nothing to fear and everything to embrace

Black is the new poetry my dear
Authored by our ancestors so I could have a voice that is heard beyond the volume of fear
The ink has always been dark so see with your ears
Black is the new love, now let your heart hear
The strength born from blood, sweat, and tears
That grew into a sunrise of a smile, my dear
My darling I keep your Melanin near
And your beauty adds depth to my mirror
The reflection tells me weapons are forming but they will stay in the rear
Because,
My black is the sunset to my depressed anxiety to steer
A blooming future in the right direction never to veer
Toward negativity, my dear
My black is the armor that never cracked, from the roots of scars and ignored facts
My black has always got my back so even if my eyes close you will still see this color, add a period to that!
My black is a promise painted like a rainbow you’ll never grey wash my faith, peace never cracks
p.s. my black has wings that sang…

My version of gratitude

Hello to the day, beautifully curated with sunlight, greenery and birds cheering us on.
Today I’ll take you on, with grace, and effort better than the last.
I pray to the heavens where my father resides, and he sends down a shower of blessings.
I greet those that I love far and near, some with hugs, others with yellow hearts and kind words.
Using my mind and body to get things done, although it’s not a joy, at least I have the ability.
Spending time on my hobbies, creativity flows effortlessly through my veins.
Carving out the time for each goal on my list because procrastination and I are on the verge of a breakup.
By the time the moon clocks in, and the stars provide company, I’ll eagerly find relaxation.
Aimless scrolling as I wind down, and brown noise until I’m asleep.
I could complain about how imperfect everyday is but I’ll take a rain check.
Right now, I’m just grateful to be here.

My screen is a scene of something obscene
It’s so serene I hear Myself scream I deemed it extreme
Im not to keen to dream it seems, I mean…..

Have I really been working on myself or did I just change from my work clothes to something more comfortable
Is this depression or is it just the pigment of my skin
Can I defeat you, detach from you or are you so fingerprinted to my thoughts that I’m simply running away from me
Sometimes I wish I could just escape me, myself wears a mask, and I am tired of getting dressed up just to still feel down
I’m black said my mind, I live in the shadows of sadness watching the sunlight from a distance
If only the heat from the suns smile would kiss me, maybe it would melt away my sadness
I’m black said my words, followed by you’re different, they won’t accept you, you don’t fit in
I’m black says the mirror looking at a reflection of depression
I get so lost in my waning emotions my waxing moon can barely breathe
It’s so cold that even the rays of light feel sad
I’m black, I’m depressed, I’m black, I’m oppressed, I’m black I’m obsessed with the idea of my feelings living on equal ground
I’m black, I’m depressed the two interchange while beginning to sound the same so much so I took depressions last name
When I look at me I see one broken piece
I can’t find the rest of the lyrics to my song, maybe it’s because the writer will never finish it
Maybe it’s because I didn’t cry enough to water my heart
I’m black, I’m dirt, but my soil is killing the last remaining rose
I am a rose with bloody red regrets for petals, I put my failures on a pedestal
So, every time I tried to look up it got me nowhere
I’m lost and I keep letting the grey line give me directions, because there’s a thin line between joy and happiness, and in the middle is pity where you can find me
I’m black so they think I stole these 5 minutes of happiness, and so what if I did everyone deserves 15 minutes of fame and mine is coming soon
But right now, I just want to smile and actually feel the laughter hold me instead of the facade that hugs me like a long embrace
This morning I stopped running and looked depression in the face
My mind is not yours it is the Lord’s
p.s. let the battle begin

Step side to side
Sway to our song
Your heart is the lyrics
My soul the instrumental
Hold my hand the way Jesus held the nails
Step side to side
Nerves waltz to love
No music is needed
When sacrifice becomes a verb
I’ll hold you like the space between us is trying to escape
Step side to side
A crowded ball room that only sees us
Watching movies with the sound off
Empty hands have the fullest hearts
And the cup of my rhythmic soul runneth over
p.s. don’t forget to kiss me under the waterfall chandeliers…

As a writer, I often find myself discovering scraps of writing I have jotted down somewhere, or suddenly, a line will appear in my head that doesn’t fit anywhere or doesn’t feel good enough. Sometimes, I foolishly let it fly away because it wasn’t what I was looking for at that moment. I have pondered how we do this with so many things. We set expectations and order and refuse anything that breaks the pattern, even if the thing we are shooing away isn’t harmful but is healing. We become so strict within ourselves that we become the cause of our discomfort. We search for relief in one way and refuse to accept that anything other than that specific thing will help. There is a calming effect that comes with the familiar, but only because one thing helps us, it doesn’t mean something else won’t. Here is a little silly analogy. Only because you love fries doesn’t mean you can’t like mash. It doesn’t mean mash isn’t satisfying, even if fries are your favorite. The same goes for everything in life. Are you feeling sad? Then you probably know something that can help, but if you are being entirely honest, can you say you are open-minded and open-hearted to other options? We tend to dismiss things before attempting them and convince ourselves that something else won’t work until it stands no chance. I was against exercising for so long. Told myself that I hated it and did so with such intensity I couldn’t let myself feel how I genuinely felt. There was no benefit because I refused there to be one. I was determined for it to fail, so it failed; however, when I let go, gave it a chance, and approached it with openness, I learned it does a lot for my mental health. This is one example of many. It is strange how this links with my writing and how I have started writing down the notes I would abandon before, and the results have been incredible. Instead of telling myself they are awful and brushing them out the door, I let them stay a while. I give them room in my notepad and let them ruminate.
In summary, I am saying we are terrible at giving things chances, and we should open ourselves to everything. It is okay if you give something a genuine attempt and it doesn’t work out for you, but please try it. Download the running app, try those HIIT workouts, make that recipe you’ve been unsure about, and write the poetry you are sure will suck. In celebration of this, here is an ending of a poem my brain created that doesn’t have a body yet. Hopefully, one day, it will.
“Please call back later
I’m trying to sleep off the silence
And if you don’t understand
what I’m saying
Congratulations
You’re cured.”
(If you like this letter, I write these weekly on my website. I will post more here also, so make sure we’re friends.)

Two roads diverged ahead of me –
one known and one less traveled.
There’s been a lot of talk about
how one should take the latter.

They say to seek the new and strange
is the course that is the wiser,
but both seemed new and strange to me
because I’d never taken either.

I traveled for a bit down one
and found much there was gold,
but soon I wondered what glittering things
the other road might hold.

Changing course is not a thing
one can often do with ease.
I trudged across through underbrush
in the darkness of the trees.

I ran into another path-
who could say where this would go?
But one I went because of course
there’s but one way to know.

I’ve done a lot of traveling now
and there’s much that I have learned.
Each path was often weird to walk
and took many curious turns.

There are many books that I could fill
with what I don’t know yet.
But what I think is true is that
none knows which path is best.

So I say if you’re stuck between two roads
and told that you much choose,
to say p’shaw to others and
do what you want to do.

Is it okay
if I lay down?
I am feeling tired
I cannot explain
It’s what I feel

Making bodies
all day and night
Not gracefully
I embrace each moment
and yet it drains me

What does it look like
if I lay down?
Will I be baring
all my weakness
for everyone to see?

I will love in myself, now
that you’re not here,
all the little things
unspoken
that drew us near

Will you still love me
if I lay down?
I am feeling tired
I cannot explain
It’s what I feel

Dear Movie Fanatics,

Where do I start on my mood swing journey?

Well, you all should know a little about my personality. To begin, I am a partial introvert with an appreciation for life. Empathetic, goofy, and humble all rolled into a nerdy late 30-year-old. I go through the swing of life with a healthy mix of career and personal goals. My love life is healthy, and my fiancée is awesome. He is my balance, happiness, and 1/4 of my heart next to my dad, mom, and dog.
Just to give a little background now let’s go on the rollercoaster- fasten your seatbelts, everybody.
Like most people, I go through different moods depending on my situation in life. I have 5 that drive the genre of shows I am going to watch for the day, week, or month.
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MOOD 1 (Psychological Thriller Genre)
Typically, when I start watching films like this it indicates that I have been around complex individuals—usually my friends, fiancée, or coworkers. To add on, I have watched something insightful/educational. My handy dandy TV providers HULU, Netflix, Tubi, etc… are always on the ball with recommendations for what I usually watch but sometimes I like to switch it up on them.
Recently, I came across a movie called “The Loft” which has a pretty badass cast. The plot centers around five married men who use a loft to have affairs however one woman ends up dead and they must figure out who killed her. Sounds predictable to most moviegoers but the writers threw in two great plot twists. Logan’s character, the main one who ended up buying the loft, ends up essentially screwing all his friends over by having affairs with Chris’s wife, sleeping with Ben’s sister (who was a virgin), and Matt’s affair partner. All the friends end up framing him for the murder of the girl, but it ends up being the awkward friend of the group who gave the girls sleeping pills and Logan’s half-brother who kills her.
A lot went into the plot, but I was very impressed with the director’s ability to keep the story on track. I love it when I have to double back on a film or re-watch it to understand the plot.
After awhile, my brain does need a break from all the movie Jedi mind tricks and that’s when I transition to the more non fiction based genres.
——————————————————————————————————–
MOOD 2 (Documentary Genre)
After I have gotten my dose of fiction for a week straight, I start to crave semi-predictable “historically accurate” content. I tend to get into this mood whenever I discover something new about myself or the people around me. Research begins and I look up specific artists of different genres to get their backstory. For example, sometime last year I happened to be listening to “Time Machine”, by Willow Smith, and in the lyrics, she sings, ” Baby, if I had a time machine, I’d go back to 1983. Maybe I would chill with Basquiat, I’d be out there playing make-believe.” The first question that sprung to mind was, “Who tf was Basquiat? Some French guy?”. Without hesitation, I immediately did a Roku TV search and happened to find a documentary on Hulu called, “Boom For Real: The Late Teenage Years of Jean-Michael Basquiat”.
“OMG, this is the SAMO guy!”- I screamed aloud.
Of course, my random outburst scared my dog and fiancée, but it was only because I felt like I had been sleeping under a rock. After watching how prolific this melanated Brooklyn-born artist was during the 80’s, I ended up purchasing a huge Basquiat-inspired “docu-art-book” (roughly 1,000 pages long) and got through 25% of the book as I am writing this article today.
After viewing 1-10 artists’ life stories, I started to wonder if these celebrities infamous or not, were the inspiration for different horror films. I then delve into my Horror Film binge.
———————————————————————————————————
MOOD 3: (Horror Genre)
Recently, I have been curious about the human experience regarding coincidental or inexplicable events happening in the past or present. I researched the story of Ed & Lorraine Warren. While most people thought they were “Kooks”, I found the integration of their career in “The Conjuring Universe” to be quite insightful. Curiosity at this point got the better of me and I began my binge of the whole series. From “Annabelle” to “The Nun”, each movie kept my attention for following the storyline. Jump scares used in moderation make for a great horror film in my opinion.
Afterward, I go to the old-school films that set the bar for the horror franchise today. Films such as “Child’s Play”, “The Exorcist”, “The Shining”, “Alien” etc… I am a firm believer in giving homage to the originals. Eventually, after my subconscious tricks me into believing I am being chased by an evil puppeteer, I begin my transition into a animated viewing experience.
————————————————————————————————————-
MOOD 4: (MANGA/ANIME/CARTOON GENRE)
I usually get into my animation craze when I need a dose of comedic relief from any horror or non-fiction binge I finish. Anime, Manga, and cartoons hold a special place in my heart and brain. Maybe the fact that someone’s inner child brought their imagination to life is what draws me in so heavily. One of my favorite anime series is Cowboy Bebop. Alongside this masterpiece, I also love “Samurai Champloo”, “Trigun”, “Attack on Titan”, and “The Boondocks”, just to name a few.
Afterwards, I go down memory lane for my dose of nostalgia and start watching projects from Nickelodeon, Disney Channel, and Cartoon Network. “Samurai Jack”, “Hey Arnold”, “Code Name Kids Next Door”, “The Proud Family”, etc… bring me down memory lane and my loved ones talk about which episodes resounded with us the most.
Recently, I made two cartoon theories on the TikTok app. Both theories focus on the possibility of cartoon characters being reincarnated on other cartoon shows. For example, I made a theory video about Susie Carmichael, from “The Rugrats” being reincarnated as Ms. Zorski the drama/English and music teacher due to their hobbies or life events in each show. As a result, I have come up with 5 video theories that are in progress as I write this letter. I love the fact these animations can get your imagination running wild. After a while, I need to come back to “reality” and I end my monthly genre binge with a more adrenaline-based viewing.
——————————————————————————————–
Mood 5 : (Action Packed Genre)
Finally, I end my monthly binge with some blood-rushing special effects and ass-kicking films/tv shows. I usually get into this mood after watching manga turned into anime shows where the fight scenes get my blood pumping. My favorite action film is a mix of horror/action, and it is “Blade”. I know that is technically “cheating” but his killing vampires and the fight scenes using Wesley Snipes are downright awesome. I always get more inspired to learn self-defense in my spare time as a result of watching an action-packed movie. I’d also venture to say that the actors/actresses also inspire me to get to my ideal body. Special thanks to Halle Berry in “Catwoman” for her perfect curves in tight leather. Standing ovation for Salma Hayek in “Dusk till Dawn” for her two-piece bikini dancer body. Honorable mention shout out to Angelina Jolie for making it cool for girls to look sexy in hunting gear with gun holsters.
After I tire myself out mentally and physically, I give the action genre a break and restart the binge process all over again.
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In conclusion, my taste in movies has changed over the years but my personality has played a role in the films/tv shows I have had the pleasure/displeasure of viewing. I’ve concluded that my rollercoaster always encompasses these 5 main genres. However, they do not always follow the order of the genres listed in this piece. Sometimes, I can have one mood for two to three weeks at a time and I could end up watching one genre for 3 weeks and switch it up at the last minute. (Especially if I am feeling impulsive).
So, I challenge all my TV/FILM fanatics to look into their favorite genres and reflect on their process for picking what they want to watch for the day or month.
Ready, Set, GO!

I thought my heart was breaking
Turned out it was growing pains
I wondered often if the aching
I felt so deep inside
Was a symptom of something else
Something much more far and wide

I thought my heart was breaking
But in all reality
The stretching sensation that sent me shaking
Was only a casualty
Of diving in deep straight to my soul
Healing, cleansing and making whole
A place that was once so hidden
Leaving a shell of me almost bed ridden

I thought my heart was breaking
Instead I found I was transcending
All the preconceived thoughts and teachings
Which all brings my soul to this beautiful ascending
New earth that is never ending
Blessings abound, always mending
That which was perceived as broken
Has now been Re birthed
expansions sending
Reverberations of healing through nations
Our one-ness remembered
Return to the heart bending
Home within your soul which always waits to warmly
Calmly
Gently
Unconditionally
Welcome you back
Into a soft embrace.

How many times have I
Done this wicked communion?
I present my body and blood
Not for nourishment
But to be devoured until I am no more
He who eats and drinks of this
Cup unworthily drinks damnation
Unto himself

Unholy communion
Attached to eternal bliss
Forgotten pledge to the cross
As we kiss

We wrestled all night until
The sun peeks its head
above the horizon
And venerates
our bodies with light

You slumber still
I wide awake
Wondering what will this be
Will this man be it for me?
My God my Holy one
The father and son
My Savior
I still feel the essence of your spirit
Inside of me
I still taste the flavor
Of your skin

I still hear the echoes
From the wall
As I call for Jesus
Every inch graced
By your touch
It pleases
All my senses
As I come to the consensus
With my mind body spirit
And soul
You are my God
MY will I submit to you
Let the actions of my body
Be pleasing to you
Feel the eruption of my worship
As my living water flows

Heaven only knows

Dreams of monogamy
Carnal insecure thoughts wondering
If he is lying to me

Because last night we were on earth
Underneath the stars and the moon
Gazing and anticipating
Quiet heavy whispers
Questioning if it’s too soon
I only known you for a moment
But you’re familiar

Like always meant to be mine
Always meant to share space and time
In a past life we were distant lovers
Faithful Ritualistic promises of
See you next lifetime
Engraved in our DNA
And unconscious mind

It’s like I spent every life
searching for you
Too stunned to speak
Loving you from a distance
You noticed me
But we shied away
Translated as indifference

Wondering what am I missing
When will time be kind?
At this very moment
all the timelines
Align

All in-sync
Body to body
Melanin on melanin
Skin in skin
Shedding the weight of
Our earthly bodies and its sin

Ascending into the cosmos
Intertwining until we are one
Only God knows
When we shall be undone
The universe sings praises
And exalts our union
We are gods
The universe is pleased
I cover you just as Nut
Does for Geb
When he admires
Her beauty
We both intertwined
In this web
Of ethereal bliss

We fly past constellations,
planets and Galaxies
And make love
in the nebula clouds
Our sweat scattered across
The universe and heavens

As we take our rest
No need for words
While we lie naked
And undressed
Our chocolate bodies
Dancing in the shadows
Of my head
Heart distressed
At the potential mess
This could be
You’re asleep
And Wide awake I lay
In this bed
As the sun rises
From its slumber
the angels of light
Dance on the walls
of this room
I find peace and rest
in the quiet of
Heaven’s morning
And wait for the
Cleansing
Found in
Heaven’s afternoon

In the realm of whispers, where simple truths twist and turn
Resides the tale of crayons, damaged and yearned.
“They still bring color ” they say, with a glance
Those who have tried know its a flawed dance.

For crayons though vibrant and bold
Struggle, in hands that fail to hold.
The canvas awaits, vast and forgiving
Fragmented pieces make coloring less than living.

Coloring, not painting; the distinction is clear
One wields crayons while the other brushes near.
Yet the challenge endures with these parts
Smooth strokes of joy elude us like lost arts.

Lines appear jagged and hesitant, on our quest
With each tiny fragment causing hues to fade best.
The persists “They still bring color indeed ”
Oh how we long for crayons to succeed.

For isn’t true bliss found in slow glides?
In crayons that smoothly coincide?
Yet from brokenness we learn resilience imbued
Colors emerge despite abuse endured.Well you know when it comes to coloring with crayons it’s not as easy, as using the ones. It’s like a story of never giving up and facing our fears. Actually it could even be seen as a metaphor for more than just coloring.

In both life and coloring those who are broken may still manage to leave their impactful marks.. Lets not pretend that it’s just as simple or fair for everyone. We all have our own challenges and obstacles to overcome, both in our lives and, in our endeavors.