In Another Life

In another life

By Nikki C Mercer

In another life 
we walk the streets in daylight 
side by side holding hands

In another life
we celebrate our love
every waking moment we can

In another life
I am your woman
you are my man 

In another life
<strong>Nikki C Mercer</strong>
Nikki C Mercer

Nikki C Mercer is a wordsmith residing in Adelaide Australia. She manages a family, a financial career and a passion for creative writing.

Nikki’s pursuits include endurance running, eating way too much sugar and experiencing the depth of life.  Nikki is co-author of The Thing Between Us and is published in a number of anthologies worldwide.
 Connect with Nikki on Instagram by searching for handle: ImagineExploreCreate

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She was Manifesting.

She was Manifesting.

Poetry by Shantae Gray

She walked right passed him.
He who was a King.
It hadn’t been intentional.
And as he straightened his crown; flexing his pectorals.
Hoping that the sun’s rays would hit his kingly.
That this woman would see him.
That she would fall to his feet.
For he needed her to be his Queen.
She might have been if he had come months sooner.
 
For in her a sea of intensity had raged.
A hurricane of hunger surged through her.
Its lightning and thunder awakened her.
She could only see the very being she was striving to be.
She was manifesting.
 
Dimensions she hadn’t seen.
Dreams she hadn’t dreamt.
She was inspired.
She was ready to defy.
She was ready to fly.
She was manifesting.
Her being had been rebooted.
Schooled by knowledge that had been so empowering.
She was manifesting.
 
She didn’t dress like a queen.
Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail; sweat running down her face.
In her denim jeans were patches of dirt.
That represented the business she was building.
The degree she was completing
The integrity she held on to.
The book she was writing.
She was manifesting.
 
There, etched into her black skin were jewels of her hard work.
All the things her sweat, blood and tears had achieved.
She was manifesting.
The king went in search of her.
Resting his crown.
Putting on his boots.
Running towards her
Trying to catch traces of the beauty that lingered in the wind; gracing time and changing lives.
She was manifesting
<strong>Shantae Gray</strong>
Shantae Gray

My name is Shantae Gray. A proud Jamaican and a graduate of The Caribbean Maritime University. I enjoy long hours at the beach, reading and singing.

I can’t say that writing is just a hobby. For me, it is far more than that. It has become a way of life.  A God given talent that I appreciate each day.

It’s funny how my emotions and feelings are tied to my writing. If I can feel it, I can write it. I love that about my craft. It is my feelings and emotions on paper.

I am working on my first book of poetry and aspire to be a renowned self-published author.
 
You can follow me on Instagram @taestruth

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Reflection, a poem

reflection a poem

Reflection, a poem by Deanna M Ramirez

Reflecting for days⠀
Frozen in place⠀
A future wide open⠀
too large to embrace ⠀

A mind bound perplexed ⠀
tangles simple ideas⠀
Put mind rest at ease⠀
Enjoy chance⠀
which appears ⠀
Squash ugly lies ⠀
false facts fed by ⠀
faint fears⠀

Swallow all pride⠀
Dig deep from inside ⠀
Then relish rewards reaped ⠀
Whence you reside

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Awakening, a poem

Awakening a poem

Awakening, a poem by Deanna M Ramirez

Sitting patiently at the core⠀
awaits the awakening of ⠀
a meek soul ⠀
Delicate strings ⠀
laced in gold courage ⠀
wrapped in knots of ⠀
protection, surrounding ⠀
Careful pulls in thoughtful direction ⠀
release the deep core spilling ⠀
emboldened beauty till⠀
it bubbles at the surface⠀
Awakening brave brilliance ⠀
Reborn a lioness

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Please pardon the blog hiatus!

Please excuse the blog hiatus
Please pardon the blog hiatus
Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

That’s when I began to hear myself, over and over again, tell my daughters that it is important to follow their dreams. That dreams require passion, persistence, and sometimes sacrifice. This website, and a more serious approach to my Eve Poetry Instagram account, became ways for me to start walking the walk. I want to show my girls a good example of what I believe is so incredibly important.

Taking life in our own hands

Life is so precious. We hear people say this often, but we don’t often see people do something about it. Those that do something about it are out living and experiencing rich, fulfilling lives; or at least trying to.

That’s what I want for myself. That’s what I want for my family. A rich and abundant life. Not financially (although that would be nice too). I’m referring to riches of time and experiences. Fulfillment. To leave this precious time we have on earth without regret. To know we spent the years, hours, minutes and seconds with those we love most, doing activities we enjoy. That we did so unselfishly. We loved others. We helped others. We helped each other. We were there for one another. We lived a life, of life. Not of things. After establishing the What, I knew I needed to begin the How.

My how

Writing is my How. I’m going to do my best to make it the How. The work that allows me more time with my family. More time living. More time.

Which brings me back to the hiatus referenced in the title of this blog. In pursuing my passion, I also realized I have a passion for mentoring and helping others. Thus began the Eve Poetry Writing Group Instagram account, and the Writers and Poets Cafe Facebook group.

While this remains a passion project of mine, and I’ll continue both; the time invested in both required I put this blog on the back burner for a few months. But I’m back! I am shifting the balance back to my own work and endeavor as a writer. There’s more to come. Stay tuned!

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