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Shopping Spree

I went shopping today
and might I just say,
“Oh, the things that I found!”

From the colorful make up
to help my face wake up
to the clothes from all around.

Shorts, shirts and pants,
dresses that make me dance.
I look fabulous, I should be crowed!

The bright red lipstick,
eye shadow to make my eyes thick
I look marvelous, I don’t even need a wig!

And do you want to know a secret about my shopping spree?
Everything was amazingly free,
to get the bargain through a closet I had to dig.

And as I look in the mirror,
the haunting question is clearer,
“Does this dress make my diaper look big?”



Who I’ll Be

Yesterday I wanted to be a doctor.
Last week I dreamed to be a singer
And last month I work hard to be an astronaunt.
Last year being in a circus looked pretty appealing.
However, today I decided I could be whatever I want
And tomorrow I shall see what I desire to be.


I scream for Ice cream

I knew very well who was Genesis’ father,
although I opted not to put his name on the birth certificate.
Although I opted not to use his last name as her last name.
Although I opted not to take him to court and demand child support.

It was my choice not to fight a battle that I sought out to be worthless.
I couldn’t make him be a part of Gen’s life, to raise her and care for her if he didn’t want to.
I couldn’t force love that he never felt in the first place.

He lived 4.2 miles from my house and driving,
it would take eleven minutes to get there, according Google Maps.
Walking, it could take anywhere from an hour to an hour and fifteen minutes.

When people learned the distance between him and his daughter,
they looked at me with disbelief.
It was like she was close enough to touch her,
only if he was man enough to reach out and try.

He knew my address and how to get there from various destinations and back roads.
My mom had made it clear that we weren’t keeping Genesis away from her father,
that this was his choice, if the question was ever asked.

“It’s not like we moved,” she reminded me,
“He knows where we live and therefore,
if he wants to see Gen,
all he has to do is ring the doorbell or knock on the door,
that way, he can never say we kept him from her.”

The doorbell remained un-rung.
The door remained un-knocked.
But, still, the heartless invitation still stood.

So, can you imagine my fury the day
I saw the bastard at the Big One, a local ice cream store,
eating an ice cream with his
sweet, loving mother and his darling little sister?
The Big One is 0.4 miles from my house which is probably
less than two minutes driving and
walking would be just about five minutes,
according to Google Maps.

Yet, there he was,
less than two minutes
from his daughter,
eating an
ice cream.

(Hello 🙂 This is just a little piece from my work that I am writing, which is deeply inspired by my favorite author Ellen Hopkins [author of Burn, Glass, Crank]. She writes her novels in a poetry format, which keeps me more engaged in her story. Although her format of her writing may seem small, her stanzas or paragraphs hold a lot of meaning and dept. From writing and sharing my poems with all of you, I have recently found it is easier for me to write in poetry. I decided to take a swing at Ellen’s style, not exactly copying her, just messing around and seeing what I come up with. Here is my first rough draft, hope you enjoyed it.) 


By the way, this really did happen to me. My daughter’s father does in fact live 4.2 miles away, according to Google Maps. 


would be an understatement
for the relationship I have
with my daughter’s father.
I pretended as though he didn’t

would be an understatement
for the amount of promises
he had instilled in my expectations.
His words were nothing but

would be an understatement
for the look in her eyes
when everyone else’s fathers were around.
Even with me by her side, I could still see

A wrath
would be an understatement
for the rage that I wanted him to feel
when he had the audacity to walk past
his daughter like she wasn’t his to

would be an understatement
for knowing what he is missing out on
when I look into my daughter’s eyes
and seeing a tiny human who is so

would be an overstatement
for the passion she provokes
when she speaks of the man
she has yet come to know and still he



lingers in my veins,

flows throw my body

with the river of my blood.


washes over my mind,

flooding my thoughts,

sinking my expectations.


gnaws at my good intentions,

consuming my humbleness,

demolishing the undeserving respect.


engulfs my judgment,

ignites my fury,

at the sight of his face.



embraces my soul,

gripping my sanity

grasping me to this earth


soothes my spirit,

calms my entangled nerves,

tranquilizing the negativity soaring through


educates my ignorant past

prepares my unknown future

reassures my conflicted emotions.


reminds me she is half of me

reminds me she is half of him

reminds me if I love her, then I must have love for him


at the sight of her face.

Dead beat



laugh is distinct in a room full of people.
I can identify her voice in a crowd at the fair.
Her cry is like wind chimes floating across the neighborhood.
The sound of her deafening scream brings my heart to a


And I wonder if he were to hear her laugh in a room full of people,
if he would be able to identify her voice in a crowd at the fair?
Would her cry be like wind chimes floating across the neighborhood
and would the sound of her deafening scream bring back his heart to the dead beat


that he is?


December 30, 2006, America drew an Angel from heaven.

The Audio of her cry silenced the Science-made machines of the room.

The Kyd was now the new generation of Tu Morrow.

Already she was a Fighter,

she would now be the Pilot of my life through many storms.

As my thoughts settled, I felt as though Tinkerbelle poured an

Ocean of her calm pixie dust over me,

and now, the Sage wrapped Blanket was being handed to me.

Instantly, like a flash of lightning, she became the Apple of my eye

and for her, I would go to the sun, the Moon and back.

As she squirmed in my arms, names ran through my mind

like a Rocket blasting off.

I had to name her something perfect, something beautiful like her,

something royal but not like Jermajesty,

something that had spark but veered very far from Diva Thin Muffin.

My cleared, as the mocha eyes, filled with intelligence locked on to mine.

a simple name from Greek origin, meaning wisdom now defined her.


Okay, so I got this poem from a blog on WordPress about something to do with ridiculous baby names. I started reading the blog and thought, this would be cool to write about celebrity baby names because they have some of the most ridiculous baby names out there. I do like some of them like America (America Ferrera), however a name like Diva Thin Muffin… Just what exactly were you thinking?! Anyways, the Uppercased words are real celebrity baby names. Below, I’ve shared what crazy parents have named their kids those crazy names. Also, this poem is for my daughter, Sophia, who is the apple of my eye.

  • Parents: Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin


  • Parent: Michael Jackson


  • Parents: David Duchovny and Tea Leoni


  • Parent: Robert Rodriguez

Tu Morrow

  • Parent: Rob Morrow


  • Parent: Jermaine Jackson

(Moxie Crime)Fighter

  • Parent: Penn Jillette

Sage (Moonblood)

  • Parent: Sylvester Stallone

Diva Thin Muffin and Moon (Unit)

  • Parent: Fred Zappa

Fifi Trixibelle (Tinkerbelle above)

  • Parents: Bob Geldof and Paula Yates

Pilot (Inspektor)

  • Parent: Jason Lee


  • Parent: Forest Whitaker

Audio Science (Audio & Science above)

  • Parent: Shannyn Sossamon

To read more on those creative parents and those outrageously creative names visit: