I was taking a few dance classes over at Santa Monica College in Santa Monica California in the Fall of 2012; and one Wednesday morning, I noticed a young girl name Gigi not dancing in class for at least 3 days. She was one of the dancer's I would watch in class most of the time because she was one of the best dancers I thought.  On that third day she missed classed, I walked up to her and asked, "why are you not dancing, you've been holding your head down looking sad for three days now?  Her response was..."my grandmother is ill, and she's in the hospital.  I don't feel like dancing".   She explained to me that she had a very close relationship with her grandmother and she didn't feel up to moving.  I thought about Gigi on my way home from class; and around 5:AM that next morning, this poem was in my head, flowing like water in a river across my forehead. The words seem to roll across my forehead like in an actual movie.  May sound strange, but true. It was amazing how I felt, and how the words simply flowed out of me.  I called her up and read the poem to her over the weekend.  She started to cry over the phone, and thanked me for the poem.  I sent it to her email, and   that following Monday,  she was up dancing again.    I named the poem "My Inner Dancer". 

One Saturday morning, I got this phone call from a lady name Ms. Elza.  After the conversation we had, I looked at the clock, and realized I had been on the phone for two and half hours with Ms. Elza.  I asked myself,  "where did that conversation get me"? It was those days when I would get on the phone and listen to gossip, and I'd join in. It was that juicy gossip; that "tell me more girl gossip".  In my opinion, when you're not focused on what you need to be doing, you gossip and waste a lot of time going no where.  I realize when you are taking care of business, you have no time for small talk gossip. When I sat down, and thought about the hours that had passed, I could have done some strategtic planning, or learned a new language with all the hours spent on listening to nonsense.  It's my fault, because I let Ms. Elza drag me down that lane every single time.  I had to stop taking her phone calls, because it was only gossip. Nothing helping each other to move us forward in life.   I explained it to her the last time she called about how we waste a lot of time on gossip.  We will never get that time back, but it's a learning experience.  Life is to short for small talk; and  that's how the poem "Time" originated. I wasted two and half hours of time on bla...bla..and more...bla...bla...and bla gossip. But if it wasn't for the bla..bla..bla. The poem "Time" would have never been written. 

At one point in my life, I use to wonder why my father was never around. My mother use to always say to me, "I'm your mother and your father".  She never talked negative about him. She was a beautiful lady, and mother. When I got older, I started to get angry looking at how hard my mother worked knowing she didn't bring me to this world by herself.   I wanted to know this man who fathered me. "Is he going to call one day", were my thoughts.  For years I use to look at the phone hoping it would ring, it never did. I had to let go of that.  I have the breath of life, and I can't get my mind around it all.  So I let it go, and let GOD.  Because I believe I am no accident.  I am grateful and humble. That anger is not getting me anywhere.  I met others feeling the same way, angry and upset with their parents or parent for not being there.  And I watch the bitterness in those people and saw myself.  I don't want that. That's their loss.  That's how this poem "Letting Go" came about.

I had a writing assignment for class at Santa Monica College. The class was modern Jazz.  The Professor wanted us to write what comes to mind first when you think of  the word "LOVE".  That same day, I was walking into a restaurant and this person comes up to me and asked for some change in order to get something out of that same restaurant I was walking into.    I felt led to ask the person to come into the restaurant to get whatever they wanted ;  I am not led to do that all the time.  I simply felt strongly this particular day, and from that experience I was able to write this poem immediately coming home to do the assignament. 

I was having a conversation on the phone one day, I don't remember who I was talking to or what the conversation was about; that's how important that conversation was.   When I got off the phone, all I know is that, I remember looking at my telephone knowing I had to finish. Just another (time waster), that dang-on telephone.  I knew I was never going to get that time back.   I had already been on Facebook; I don't know how long and for what?  I started to use FB for networking,  letting people know that I am here, to help and do something productive.  If the phone call is not about some business or getting to another level, I really don't have time to waste on chit-chat.   Life is short.  I have my playtime and rest time, but for me it was time to BUCKLE DOWN and that's how this poem "Self Indulgence" came to me. 

I was talking with a family member one day, and she told me she had gotten into an argument with her best friend, and after the argument her head was hurting.  I told her in my opinion that was some negative energy maybe lingering after the fight.  I was telling her of my experience one time; and I had a headache also.  What I did was call the person up on the phone and told her I was sorry even if I knew I did not start the fight.