On Tuesday afternoons I have a poetry class. We sit in a circle and the teacher teaches us about a form of poetry. Sometimes it's familiar, sometimes it's something only one of us has heard of. As soon as we understand - it's over to us. We write, then we speak.

For someone who has had a long-term, committed, love-fueled relationship with poetry - and more recently spoken word - I have loved learning more about this art form. 


With this - this is my promise (that I'll try my very best to keep) to release a poem each week. Maybe a Wednesday? A Thursday? A mid-week piece of my heart.


Last week we had our poetry presentations. Five minutes worth of speaking our own poems. The equivalent of a 'Best Of' compilation mix. For someone in a course that requires answering questions and speak regularly to people during class, there's something about standing up in front of my peers (and in this case, pouring my heart out) that still gets to me.

Cue shaking hands, wavering voice and dry mouth.

Even though I was proud of what I had written, that I had been itching for weeks to speak this one, I was still trembling. This was one of my poems. A haiku sequence.



I am like a bike,
Like the moon, like the ocean –
We all have cycles.

Our wheels spin each month,
While this body prepares me
To give life one day.

Do not look in fear.
I create generations.
I am a riptide.

You cover your ears
As though this isn’t natural.
It is. Period.

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