October 21, 2007
My Purpose emerges from the blank page,
from the collective emotion

My Privilege hollers from my mother’s womb and my father’s butterflies

My Prevail came from Arctic circle solitude,
Public school bull,

Stage Presence,

Music pumped loud

My Perchance is love.

-Lucky, huh?

My Persona echoes Lauren Bacall’s voice,
Reaches towards Eve’s tree,

Drives past old haunts,

Resonates water ripples

My Possibilities are like anyone else’s,

What I make of them

My Poetry is the same poem reincarnated over and over again

to a different time and place

My Pencil leads my purpose

To write
To slam
To oh yeah

To collage

To doodle irreverently in the margins
To fix it last minute


To capture a moment

To resuscitate something beautiful

To find Purpose

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