Tag: beauty

What’s Going On?

Published on by Tosha Michelle17 Comments
Hey y’all. What’s up? Hope life is treating you well. Just a heads up, I’m thinking of starting a true crime podcast that will focus on missing persons cases. I’ll probably post then on my YouTube account. If you liked to watch, I’ll post the link below.  Life is fairly busy with work and family, so we’ll see if the podcast comes to fruition. It’s important to me to always strive to make a difference no matter what I do. Life becomes so much richer when we focus on others. I suppose that’s why I’ve always gravitated toward the helping professions and the nonprofit sector.
In other news, off to the Outer Banks for vacation. It should be fun. I hope to see a few wild horses and some beautiful coastal scenery. Photos to follow. Right now, my BH has made us breakfast. It’s become a new Sunday tradition. He has stepped up his game. I appreciate the effort and the bacon. Ha! Good stuff. Happy Sunday, y’all. I haven’t stopped writing, a new poetry book is in the work. It’s the one I mentioned months back. I’m writing it with my beautiful friend Misty. It’s a collaborative effort. I’ve also been approached by a couple of journals. I just need to find the time to submit. Thanks for always being here. I love this community. 
Here’s the link to my YouTube 
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And We Write

Published on by Tosha Michelle60 Comments

Poetry is all about perception.
It’s what we perceive, not what
we see.

It’s all in the rhythm.
The arrangement of the poetic
notes.

It’s about loosening those
syllables until they roll off our pens
in a dance of self.

We release our whimper and watch
it turn into a roar on paper

We write for preservation.
We write to empty the emptiness.
We write like we eat, to live

We spend our nights out on a limb                                                      so we can fall into the melody of our craft

Our souls writing on.                                                                            Finding salvation in verse

-Tosha Michelle

The Remains 

Published on by Tosha Michelle34 Comments

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The ones I love,
and have been
blessed to keep,
are sleeping
as night’s low
pitch hums slowly
fades.

I walk along the lake
with only the birds
to keep me company.
The clouds sticky,
but devoid
of cotton candy,
offer no sweetness.
I move through stony colors,
a stillness in my
soul.

The water churns,
dark froth travels
in its wake.
I cry for some
inexplicable reason.

Through my tears,
I stare out into
the silence,
and think of those
who make me the happiest.
And then I wonder
about those
who have come
and gone.
The ones I have lost,
lost loves, lost friends,
a litany of history.

Memories reclaim
me for a moment.
Has life carried
them where they
want to be?
Does the dusty world
ever taunt them, too?
Do they ever
wonder why time
offers no explanation
for grief and regret?
Do they ever weep
because whatever
we’re made of,
we can never alter
the ticking clock’s
hands.

I hope that there’s
a table set somewhere
for them, and morning kisses
to greet them.

The past opens quickly,
but recedes just as
fast.

I pick a dying
wild flower from its
sidewalk home,
just as a boat
heads off into the gray,
brushed stroke
of the mist.
A lone crow
plummets toward it,
like granite.
The first faint orange
spot appears in the
sky.

Lifting my chin to the sun,
to brightness.
I discard the unbreathable,
dizzy smell of nostalgia.

I bathe in the now,
and wash my soul
in today’s syllables

Thankful for what was,
but even more grateful
for those that remain 
I know without them,
the air would taste
like nothingness.

Standing on the bridge
in the space between
yesterday and today.
I walk back toward
the scent of nectar,
of happiness
Eating up the sunshine
while I still can.

-Tosha Michelle

Soul Keepers 

Published on by Tosha Michelle16 Comments


There are those people
who don’t need to look at you
to really see you.
They see you as you are.
Your lesser than moments
The sadness that is opulent
in you.

They’ll love you whether you’re
noteless or the feature story
written in the best of you,
whether your feet are sinking
in quicksand, or lost among dandelions
and slippery grass.

They’ll love your voice when it
deepens with life’s desire
or breaks with the frost of despair.
These are the ones who will
revive you when you’re barely alive.
When the sky loses it’s luster,
they’ll eat the clouds for you.

They’ll never be just a drifting
wind. or a splintering shadow,
a stray unimpressed with your
offering wandering off.
These people are your constants,
leaves that don’t flinch in the bitter air.
Forever entwined in your heart.
Immovable, no matter how much the branches
of your soul may shutter.

There are those people who
don’t need to look at you to
really see you.
They see you in the darkest
ravine or the midday sunlight of the pines.
These people are the backdrop
of your life, the stars who crown
you on your long walk home.
These are those you
sing the song of yourself too.
The ones who hear the potential
in every note.
And remind you of the words
when you forget how the
melody goes.

-Tosha Michelle 

And silliness and no makeup ensued.


And this song goes out to my cat of course. 😜💕

Paradoxically is Such a Fine Word.

Published on by Tosha Michelle149 Comments

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I’ve been besotted with chocolate.

I’ve been confused
by broccoli.

I’ve been stung by hornets,
but still I stirred the nest.

I’ve tripped over my mangled
spirit walking the narrow way.

I’ve prayed with fervor.
I’ve sinned with grace.

I’ve courted darkness.
I’ve loved the light.

I’ve questioned the sun.
Its answers reflected back
in the hourglass.

I’ve remembered to thank the academy of monotony:
laundry, vacuuming, dusting.

I’ve had it all: the sky, the finicky moon, the unfolded map.

I’ve got lost in a roundabout,
trying to navigate my mind.

I’ve lived well in unsettled hues.

I’ve been Saturday, Sunday,
and Monday.

I’ve tasted ash, eaten roses,
demanded a life of flames.

I’ve been a lunatic and lover.

I’ve been the Patron Saint
offering my protection.

I’ve been Judas,
freely spending the silver.

I’ve nearly drowned in the past’s harsh syllables.

I’ve held a grudge.
I’ve forgiven.

I’ve found a second soul.
I transcribe it in chaos and peace.

My heart circumventing the paradox.

I’ve learned how to rearrange the letters of myself in a sentence that fits.

Casting away yesterday’s syntax.

Coming unmoored.

I move toward clarity’s
swinging door as fast as
a sip through a straw.

I make my getaway.

The quarrel with myself over.
I stand at attention,
dust free.

I’ve survived.

-Tosha Michelle

Turn It Up

Published on by Tosha Michelle34 Comments

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Sometimes we just have to
tap our foot at the life we have
like we would to a familiar tune.
Sometimes there seems to
be a halfway point between
where you’ve been and where
you want go. But you’re stuck
on the side of the road where
the landscape looks dead, but
still you find some pretty in the trees
and that song in your head.
You sing full-lunged as you
toe tap down the highway.
And for a moment it doesn’t matter
what came before or what came after.
You don’t think about where you live
or where supper comes from.
You aren’t concerned with hunger or restlessness.
You just keep going forward, windswept and hope kept,
all too ready to be struck by something reckless,
something mad. Something so intensely hot
it could strike you dead.

-Tosha Michelle