I caught the writing bug early in life. When I was 9 or 10, I used to write stories for my younger brothers. I should have known I had a knack for this when they would often request my stories over Dr. Seuss

As I got older I used essay and poetry to help express the troubled emotions that consume teenagers and twenty somethings. Probably a much healthier method way of coping than some of the alternatives.

As time went on I became consumed in the work world and my creativity was pushed aside for a decade or so. The birth of my daughter a year ago has slowed me down and helped me to re-evaluate my priorities in life. She is a bit of a miracle child and I believe we both have a greater purpose in life then working a 60 hour week.

I have always been a big fan of poetry both reading and writing. I would love to write a novel but it takes a dedication I haven't found in myself yet. For now I am thrilled to write articles, poems and songs.

My most bizarre writing assignments are eulogies. I am very good at them. My family and friends all have me booked for their funerals. Even the funeral directors applaud them. Its a little dark but still creative!

I am looking forward to enjoying this new community on Helium and to meeting new friends and collegues

My passion is ...

people and animals I love

I know too much about ...

everyone's elses lives

My parents always told me ...

You would make a lousy lawyer, you always see both sides

My childhood ambition ...

To be a lawyer

My favorite memory ...

The day I gave birth to my daughter

Why I write ...

it gives me something to talk about other than baby poop

What I am reading/watching/listening to ...

"What Not to Wear" I LOVE Clinton

My first job ...

Dusting watches at my Dad's Jewellery store

My best moment ...

I have had a lot of wonderful moments

My inspiration ...

is always changing.

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Alarm clocks

3 of 69

A buzz, a beep, a ringing bell
That damn loud noise that comes from hell.
It wakes me from a restful slumber
With evil glowing flashing numbers.

What did I do to earn this fate?
Besides stay up an hour late.
My fuzzy brain would like to know
From buried deep in my pillow.

Why can't I wake up to something sweet,
A gentle breeze? A birdie's tweet?
A soft massage or lover's touch?
Oh no, that's asking way too much.

I contemplate my destiny
And how I wasted yesterday
And now must pay the sinner's dues

Ugh, this poem is lame, I'll just hit snooze!

More..