I’ll break my heart
so yours will never again.
That’s my job as your foster mom
For now, your only friend.

Don’t worry about any mess.
It’s nothing I can’t clean.
Right now you’re feeling stress,
The result of humans being mean.

Physically different,
but our souls are the same.
My story, my past,
Just oxygen and fuel to
Continue the flame.

You set the pace, baby.
I’ll take it from there.
From here on out,
You will only know care.

For now, you rest.
We can work towards calm.
Remember, this is my job
I am your foster mom.

Addiction

I’m an addict
And I know it!

I revere two of the three Cs:
Coffee, candy, and cigarettes.

I love my coffee alone with my contemplation
Of life, likes, posts, news, like a great commotion,

Flitting from one to the next trying to see
What’s best before I rest to be free.

Posts galore and replies of mine
Make my day, as the taste of Coffee

Feels like a sinful pleasure.
With my dark drink, I bite into chocolate,

And drift into a coma at heaven’s gate.
I savor the sweetness along the strength

Of body of the coffee and it’s bitterness.

Life with the morning rituals
Cake, candy, chocolate, coffee and sweets

Is like life without a hero like Ferrero,
Or Cadbury, Mars, KitKat, and Aero!

Raising the bar in a day filled
With noise, poised to litter the mind

With fear, worry, and being drear!
So my habitual start is set in stone:

Coffee, contemplation, quiet that have
A lead to social media, news, where I refuse

To succumb to its dadarkness
That needs to twist your morning addictions

Into a depressive, foggy darkness.
Let your coffee’s wisdom fill
Your empty cup with hope that will

Reject solidifying into despair,
But reaches in your depths to repair.
©️ Malak kalmoni chehab ©️

Dear Boots,

You are strapped in and strapped on, holding tight to the teathered ground you thought you left behind. Oh you thought they were made for walking but like prey, that hawk is stalking.

Boots you know what to do in the dust of the wind and you’ve also had the taste of strutting the line at the base of the river that runs deep. Climbing and climbing not knowing this mountain was so steep, when will you finally reach its peak?

Boots you are not worn down, you are not warped like the soil lands you have found. You were made to run, to dance and take a stance because you smell of new leather, you just haven’t allowed the right home where you “have to break them in.”

Break them curses, break them rules, break that damn ruins that put dirt on your steel toe boots. Break them in all right, break down barriers and Boots I’m telling you, put up that fight.

Make yourself shiny and new. Find that place that makes you feel abundantly clean and renewed. Boots love yourself the way you love the paths you walk because you are undeniably a Rios of Mercedes that can’t be found like a boot that makes themselves available on every block.

The View

Wow, it’s insane how the world looks at you .
Do you think you’ll be enough for maybe one or two.
Is it too much to ask to see you just more than once?
I can’t imagine what you have to go through inside to present yourself
These people must be dunce if they don’t want you.

I love opening the door and smelling your scent
The smell is on my pillow from having you close to me
If I have you too much, I might have to repent

I’m super lucky to have you all to myself
I’m not selfish, but with you, I have to be .
You’re so fit, dark like chocolate, juicy meat on your body.
I rather have you any day over a plate of shellfish.

Do you know when I fell in love with you?
I fell in love with you as a child.
I took one look at you and said “you’re going to be all mine “and that’s true.
I couldn’t wait to become an adult and see how you grew. How you flourished.
I love you even more as an adult.
Who would have known.

People fight over you all the time.
I can’t blame them.
You pair so well with a glass of wine.
I love seeing you come out, and it’s actual steam coming out of you because you’re so dam hot !
You’re beautiful, soft and well matured.
You’re moist and refreshing and the best cure.

The scent of cloves as you walk by
The smile on my face when I see you.
When we are in a restaurant, and I’m with my friends, I count the minutes to see your sexy blend.

You sit well on top of colored grains
My heart can’t take it anymore.
I’m going to go insane.
As you come over to me, I lose everything in my brain.
Is this what actual love feels like?

I enjoy you, I love you, and I can’t get enough of the view.

I have to have you
I’m sure you do too.
Look at you!
Look at that view!
Oxtails, rice and peas with plantains too!

Oh, how I love to daydream

Because you sleep when the sun is out

That’s the only way to see you

Until the bright beams have gone down

But

When you wake

What a sight for the stars in the evening sky

You captivate me with your beauty

I have confessed my deepest fears to you

So serene and complex

There is no doubt

My exquisite moon

In every phase of your life

I adore you

Oh, my sweetest love, my eternal muse,
Poetry and song, you are the rhythm of my soul,
The melody that cradles my spirit,
The words that dance upon my lips when my heart overflows.

I was just a little girl when I first found you,
Running wild, singing at the top of my lungs,
Pouring my joy into the air,
As if the world was listening, as if it understood.

At night, after whispered prayers,
I sang to the unseen, to the One who placed you within me.
With every note, every verse,
I reached for something greater,
Something infinite, something divine.

You have never left me.
You have been my sanctuary in sorrow,
My fire in silence, my courage in doubt.
When my voice shook, you steadied it.
When my hands trembled, you guided them to the page.
Through every storm, you have been my refuge,
Through every loss, my salvation.

I love you with a passion that words cannot hold.
You are the song in my laughter, the poetry in my tears.
With you, I am free—
Unchained, unbreakable, infinite.

And as long as I have breath,
I will sing. I will write.
I will love you until the end of time.

Your perky aroma pops me out of bed
Preventing stabby headaches in my head

I get to work each day on time
Before the late bell dares to chime

And with your spunky caffeine kick
I rarely, if ever, call in sick

On days my nerves are worn and frail
You’re there to comfort without fail

Hot, roasted beans all warm and toasty
Reminding me I love you the mosty

The one who knows me, when I am asleep- Also knows whom I love when he comes to bed.

I love you bed for keeping all my secrets, and even some of my fantasies.

I love you bed for holding me tight- deep into the nights- when no one else will.

I love you bed for comforting me, and keeping me warm- long after my lover has gone!

I love you bed for never speaking ill of me, when you’ve seen me both clothed and unclothed.

I love you bed for the deep connection of protection- you hold for me. That you’ll never desert me in times of need and un-repose. You stay waiting all tidy and made, until I am tired and ready for you to hold me again.

No matter the linen- you are a steady and stabilizing force in my life.

I love you so my dear bed- for keeping your promises to guard me at night. You even know whom else I love besides you and why!

All my loves come to visit you, and you never get jealous or vengeful- but hold us all so dear and close.

You are a Queen Ann bed with high standards and pillars, the comfort that gives knows no bounds.

Please do stay strong and sturdy, and holding all my secrets. I’ll love you forever me dear dear bed!!

If there are four elements, you are my fifth.
Somewhere between the earth, fire, water, and air,
You are the salt that makes everything better.
You fill my empty spaces and surpass limitations.
You are the substance that cradles the stars.
You are the essence that holds the heavenly bodies.
Even the planets would call you perfect.
You could heal and cure and outsmart time.
My “quinta essentia” and the best of your kind.
I look at you and only see God’s handiwork.

Style Score: 100%

As I remember praying is one of my lovely passions in life, praying have been part of my daily routine, and I love the fact that I can do it anywhere, at any time, for any occasion, for different purposes, I love to pray because for me is a connection with God.

I love to pray because it is a disconnection from this stressful world and it is my space to unwind and practice something meaningful that warms up my faith, spirituality and gives me strength to continue fighting in my daily life.

If I had to choose one thing that I love to do among the other things, it still be of course pray, I can’t live without praying, because gives my daily portion of love, compassion and faith.

I am glad to have the privilege of being considered a praying woman. I have a profound praying spirit because my passion for praying is unlimited. I never be tired of praying because it is my peace when I feel stressed, confused, sad, angry or lost; praying solves my problems; God put in the work for me and give me the wise solution to my situation.

I love to pray because through praying; I give to God the responsibility to solve my issues in his great wisdom. I love to pray because gives me a sense of purpose and through praying I can find my divine calling.

I love to pray because I can pray for others in need; and the best part, I do not need to be present with them to pray; I can do it by myself in my space and still make a difference in their lives.

Dear Unsealers:

I start each day with something brewing. Literally.

I rip open the bag of tea and pour the hot water in my cup. As the cup steeps, the aromas reach my nose. Scents of Jasmine, Bergamot and Peppermint take hold. I open the box of tea and see so many options, with bags having a specific color assigned to them. It’s like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, right down to the black and gold embossing on the Harney and Son’s box.

But the cup of tea matters to me more than just simply having something warm in my body on wintry days.

In each cup of tea that I brew, I feel a sense of peace. I do not get started on the litany of reschedule case requests until I finish my cup of tea at my desk. Otherwise, it’s the sign to everyone that I’m taking a moment for myself.

The cup of tea, as is, is enough for me. I don’t add milk, cream or sugar to it. I don’t make it sweet, except for a drop or two of honey.

Having tea as a part of my day goes back a long way.

From my college days, when I would pop into the Starbucks around the corner from John Jay College’s campus to order a cup before class began. To my first taste of my favorite type of tea, Jasmine Green during afternoon tea at the Athenaeum Hotel in London in October 2012. At my previous job, I would go to markets and bodegas to bring in multiple boxes of tea to have a range of options over the course of the work week. This ritual lasted for my eight years of employment there.

The cup of tea has made a comeback in recent days. From spending my birthday last December being with pots of tea at the Warren Street Hotel. To the boxes of tea from Palais des Thés that my friend Umara gifted me for my birthday and Christmas gifts. The Advent Calendar had a bag of tea for every day that led up to Christmas Eve. The green and gold box added a dose of holiday spirit to my desk each morning.

I’m so grateful that I decided to re-introduce this ritual to my morning routine.

I need to find my moments of peace when I can in this hectic world that we live in. Having a cup of tea in the morning helps toward that goal.