My relationship with poetry is eternal, a bond unbroken—a marriage for life.
I jumped into a vehicle and started writing, as if I would never take my foot off the gas.
Throughout my life, I continued writing, constantly driving forward, as my words reflected the roads of my past.
These were truths I didn’t fully understand, yet I kept speeding with a pencil, a pen, and a pad in hand.
Even when I ran through yellow lights, my thoughts never slowed down. I wrote because I was angry—furious, even.
When I came to a stop, it was never truly a stop, because what I write and what I’ve written can never be halted.
And when I passed others in traffic, I slashed through their thoughts, mopping the floors of their minds as I went.
Behind the wheel of my thoughts, I’m just a poet—a driver navigating a world of words and figures.
Traveling this journey is a mission with wheels, as the poems I write are the tracks I leave behind.
Becoming a temporary resident of the Department of Corrections was, in hindsight, a blessing in disguise. At 23 years old in 1985, I was terrified, convinced that I might lose my life.
But instead, I was granted a gift from Jehovah God.
In the beginning, my family stood by me. But in the end, it was my mother who remained steadfast.
Fifteen years of separation from my family and society forever altered my life.
I entered as a young boy and emerged as a man.
It was during this time that I discovered my true calling: to become an exceptional writer and poet.
Year after year, I grew intellectually, finding clarity and purpose through the solitude of isolation and the companionship of loneliness.
My mother encouraged me to elevate my writing, urging me to embrace my skills.
My relationship with poetry is eternal, a bond unbroken—a marriage for life.
Now, I aspire to be internationally known, sharing my journey and my words with the world.
