Category: Photography

Selective or Picky?

Published on by Tosha Michelle22 Comments

In a totally different vein than my usual posts, let’s talk about the ideal partner.

Here’s my laundry list. I think I may be too picky. 😜

1. Tall. Height is my one superficial quirk. He can be bald and chunky just not short. Hypocritical, since I’m only 5’2
2. He must be loyal, intelligent, kind but not meek. Sense of humor is a must. I need someone who can make me laugh
3. Slightly nerdy but artsy
4. Must like my two daughters and my rock dtar cat.
5. Passionate about life and me.
6. Must love to travel and go out but also happy to just stay ar home and cuddle on the couch
7. Socially conscious. Awake and aware.
8. Liberal minded and urban
9. Affectionate and loving
10. Lastly, he must treat me like a princess 😜

London 

Published on by Tosha Michelle43 Comments

I recently visited the UK.  This was my fifth trip across the pond and by far my favorite. I was accompanied by my lovely friend, and resident fun girl, Kristena.  We met up with one of my favorite Brits and bloggers Alex.  If you read my posts, you know of the Alex I mean. Yes, ladies he’s just as kind in person and even more amazingly sweet. We couldn’t have asked for a better tour guide.  Nothing but love for the bearded wonder 

 We had the best time. We were there for nearly two weeks and the days went so quickly. I’m already hankering to go back. I wanted to share some photos with you.  Hope you enjoy. xx


Crushed Flowers

Published on by Tosha Michelle61 Comments

And these are my flaws
My vices.
Impatience, a tongue
sharp as a guillotine.
Caffeine. Chocolate.
Sarcasm on every occasion.
And unquenchable desire
to be loved.
A heart that is an
exhibitionist who
weeps upon
my sleeve
A fear of monochrome
colors, thunder,
the undone,
petty gossip
and letting go.
A hunger to be kissed
often and with fervor.
An awkward shyness
around new people.
A fascination with
the lure of a snowbound
life.
Not being Christian
enough to turn the
other cheek or Zen
enough to just be still.
The knowledge that my
life is unimportant
in a world with a noose
around its neck but
writing about it
anyway.
I often prefer the company
of books and my cat to
other human beings.
I live nside a cluttered
mind in a pristine house.
And not listening closely
to my Granny and her
treasury of wise words
Most which I have
forgotten, but
I do recall her saying
you must learn
to take what will
be with grace,
that our flaws
bind us
to humanity,
and to never forget
even broken crushed
flowers are beautiful
More fragrant for
their fall.
The infallible blossom
of dtrength and the will
to go

-Tosha Michelle

Every Breath You Take (Sting Cover)

Published on by Tosha Michelle20 Comments

Hello everyone.  “My gift is my song and this one’s for you” This cover goes out to one of the wittiest and sweetest guys I know. Everyone’s favorite Brit, Alex.

Find his blog here: https://alexraphael.wordpress.com/

Hope you all enjoy. Thanks for always supporting the blog. I appreciate every last one of you.

 

Next Year

Published on by Tosha Michelle93 Comments

wishing everyone only the best in 2017.

“Maybe someday,
You’ll be somewhere
Talking to me
As if you knew me,
Saying, I’ll be home for next year, darling.
I’ll be home for next year.
And maybe sometime,
In a long time,
You’ll remember
What I had said there.
I said, I’ll be home for next year, darling,
I’ll be home for next year.”

Tick Tock

Published on by Tosha Michelle25 Comments

Outside of her was history.
A shroud to the past
The living beneath a life.
beyond the open door
an engraved coin, the swell
of violins, conjured spirits,
the echos of and
etching of yesterday
The yearning for a new day.

Inside of her, dwindling reason
An endless ticking watch
The watch was her mind.

-Tosha Michelle

https://m.soundcloud.com/tosha-michelle2020/time-after-time-rawvery-raw

The Past

Published on by Tosha Michelle25 Comments

The past slips forward
under the door.
Slithering around on the
floor, tangled with our
muted perceptions and half
recalled facts. It’s dines
on our regrets, our annual
if only breakfast of crow.
We study it like math,
figures, we can’t quite grasp
We equate in retrospect.
under a ghost light
We ponder its multiplicity.
We survive on a broken
calculator and flashcards
that read don’t let go.

-Tosha Michelle 

Poetry

Published on by Tosha Michelle84 Comments

It feels safe to reside inside poetry. It’s my escape route.
Real and imagined.
Here I can live multiple lives
My feelings are diverse, if I tire of one emotion, there’s always another close as the ink on my hand.
Poetry holds my heart, and understands like water, I’m perpetually in transition. My words take on many forms. Some are steeped in reality. Others, solely fantasy, perhaps, live perceived in a parallel universe.

My soul never grows static in verse. My poet self, helps me gain confidence to live life as my real self, to have the courage to balance monotony and forgive the world its drudgery.

-Tosha Michelle