Is it bad to want a love so deep
He buys a plot of land and names it after me?
Apricot blossom and roses surround the perimeter
While lilies and lilac lay the path to my tomb
Carved out of Georgia marble, gold
Limestone and crystal
Peaches, leather, and vanilla fill the air he breathes while
Looking at me. Memories of my skin soft of cocoa and oil
Torturing him like the scorching summer heat in Mississippi
Visions of long hair flowing at the sight of water running Through the light of the fountain he built for me A mile…
I opened my arms up to the universe and asked, can you please send me a husband? I want someone to love, support, and hold. I also want someone to support, love, and hold me.”
The universe responded, “This is not the right time for romantic love. You are destined to do so many things before committing to a life partner.”
I went to my closest friends, “ I really want to find love.” They responded, “You have other things you should be doing. I am still waiting for that book about your life to come out. And aren’t you…
I can’t help but
Talk of, wish for
Roses, lilies, lilac, jasmine
And other flowers and other scents
The smell of your woodsy cologne
The soft touch of your skin
I think of, wish was
Beneath my fingertips
I can’t help but
Brag. Sometimes, to
Encourage you to appreciate me more
But most times
So you know I never lied
When someone comes around and
Does appreciate me more and
Whisks me away from you
So you know who they are -
So you’re not caught off guard
When ghosts of lovers past
Resurrect themselves in my…
“I have a confession to make,” my date said, “I watched your video on YouTube, and now I know all about consortium schools.”
How could this happen to me again? I thought
“Interesting…How did you find me? I asked. “I Googled ‘Jehan’ and ‘teacher,’ and you popped up in my search.
How can someone find me with just as little as my first name and profession?
A few weeks earlier, I went on a date with a different man, and the same thing happened.
Five minutes into our meal, he said, “I have to tell you something,” I looked up…
I appreciate this story so much. Though I am not a parent, I am an educator, and what I have learned about children, people, in general, is that they do not always behave in the ways they wish they would. Control is never the answer, but critical thinking, as you said, and education, so they can fully form their own opinions and ideas. That is part of our job as parents and educators. To protect children while also helping them become their unique selves as they grow into adulthood.
“Why didn’t you yell at her as you yelled at me? She didn’t know how to call out using this phone, and you didn’t treat her the way you treated me,” one of our peers asked before leaving the hallway.
We had just gotten back from a play performed at a church about an hour away and were waiting for our parents to get us.
It was the early 2000s before teenagers carried their own cell phones.
We were subjected to making telephone calls from the one public phone available in the building and there was a special procedure to…
A Prose Poem
I looked at you one night while you were sleeping beside me.
As I slowly inhaled the sweet musky scent of amber and the woody notes of oakmoss and cedar that made up your cologne, I slowly let out tears of mourning.
Trying to keep those tiny droplets from falling from my face onto yours — I didn’t want them to wake you — was difficult.
It was clearer than the moon that pierced through the night sky that night — I stared at you for what felt like forever — that you weren’t mine.
“I hope that pushy guy became more responsible,” he said as if he was any different from my ex-boyfriend who had also tested positive for the same virus he had.
He continued. “Well, I am glad I already had a test scheduled and was able to have an open conversation with you and take the necessary precautions.”
Were we living in the same world, or was that a lame attempt at manipulating me into believing he was different from my ex or most men, for that matter?
It is as if you have to drag men kicking and screaming to…
I overthink everything. Thoughts constantly racing; I used to think I was supposed to somehow slow them down.
What meditation would I have to do to calm my self-diagnosed anxiety? What essential oil would I have to use? What plants should I have in my room? What vitamins should I take?
Those were all helpful in getting me to sleep better but not decreasing the number of thoughts I was having.
It wasn’t until I started publishing consistently on Medium that I realized I was never supposed to think less. I was supposed to write more.
My job then was…
Educator and lover of the written word, you can find me teaching middle, high school, and college-level courses while writing poetry, short stories, and essays.