Autobiography of a Poet
Chapter on Becoming (30 - 40)
Chapter on Childhood (9 - 17)
Chapter on Becoming (18 -30)
Chapter on Becoming (30 - 40)
Chapter on Becoming Pt. Two
Chapter on Being a Mother
Between Man and Woman
Still Working it Out Between Man and Woman
The Man And Woman Thing...It Still Works
Lover, By Name Called
Lover, By Name Called II
Lover, By Name Called III
Lover, By Name Called IV
Lover, By Name Called V
In and Out of Love
Still Falling In and Out of Love
Romantic Love
Distance Loving
More verse
Through Depression
Ending verse

Knowing myself, and loving the woman I have become.



She called me Big Bad Mama.

Then laughed, because for her it meant ridicule.

I too laughed, because I knew the whole truth of the statement.


She needed me to feel shame and embarrassment at my size.

Instead her ignorance empowered me, giving me strength.

And wisdom to know my worth, with the freedom to accept myself.


From somewhere she'd acquired the notion that big was

synonymous to unattractive.

Where had that thought come from? What idiocy had originated it?

And I pitied her, her own insecurities, for she'd definitely misplaced mine.


I a full-bodied woman who has so much more to recommend her.

And she, who believed worth, was measured by the size of your waist.

Had starved, denied, repelled, and curtailed all pleasures which

proved this false.


While I had lived life fully, and had fed deeply at passion's trough.

My lovers don't leave me wanting. My lovers don't leave me at all.

For to be loved for me the big beautiful woman I am, lends

credence to that love.


And the pleasing memories I look back on, from a life that's been lived.

I who am strong, witty, charming, and bold.

I who am beautiful, intelligent, loved, and naughty.


So, she called me Big Bad Mama.

And I smiled, and said, "Yes, little girl, I am."


(To my grand-mother.)



He loved me sweetly, strongly,

Way into the night.


Held me tightly, gently,

With all his loving might.


I gave to him freely, willingly,

And he took me the same.


This man who loves me---

Big Beautiful Woman is my name.


He touched me deeply, swiftly,

Then touched me again.


He wanted me only, completely,

Repeatedly, as I rained.


I was spent wholly, fully,

And left him in pleasing pain.


This man who adores me--

Big Beautiful Woman, is my name.


I raptured, repeatedly,

While the echoes shook my frame.


And drank thirstily, fiercely,

Each time that I came.


He desired me fervently, intensely,

As I took him higher with each frame.


The man who knows me--

And Big Beautiful Woman is my name.



It rained.

And outside my windows

I saw the blurring of the sky turn dark and cry.


It fell.

Onto the quiet street

And no one saw the weeping and heartbreak but I.


It ran.

Down the sidewalks and the sides of the trees

Washing away yesterdays trenchant debris.


It cleansed.

Away the anger, fear, disharmony.

And then it healed a wounded soul righteously.



Color me in laughter

When I can't hold back my smile.

Color me in innocence

When my joy is that of a child.


Color me in diamonds

If too brightly I should shine.

Color me intoxicated

If I reel like I've had too much wine.


You can color me in anything.


Color me from heaven

For I'd never freely seek hell.

Color me in acceptance

For you alone have known me well.


Color me creative

When my dreams are so inspired.

Color me dancing,

When my feet will not be mired.


Color me as you believe.


Color me in hope,

For I'll fight until I prevail.

Color me in pleasure,

For I've drank deeply from that well.


Color me crying,

If my heart is about to break.

Color me alluring,

If your breath I seem to take.


You can color me, as you perceive.


Color me grateful,

For all the thanks I give to you.


Color me a liar,

For the lie I spoke as truth.


Color me soaring,

When your love gives me the wings to fly.

Color me successful,

When all I have left, is my very best try.


Color me diligently,

For once painted it becomes me.

Just color me truthfully.

Please color me carefully.


In fact, color me all the colors of the world.

Becoming a woman has little to do with age in years and more to do with experiences.