Teen Writing Workshop w/ Miami Book Fair

Recently, I had the distinct pleasure of facilitating a teen writing workshop sponsored by the Miami Book Fair. The Miami Book Fair is one of the more well-respected events of its kind in the nation. Beyond the amazing event that happens in November, numerous workshops and community events are held throughout the year under the Miami Book Fair banner.

My workshop featured some talented teens who were excited about the opportunity to spend their Saturday morning writing poetry. We focused on the power that an individual’s story has and the necessity that a poet, or any artist, is intentional about using their own authentic story to speak volumes. In the few hours we had, these poets started on the journey of creating some extremely in-depth work, and I look forward to working with them in the future.


South Florida Book Fair

And the Walls Came Tumbling hit the shelves in January. Six months later, I am a featured poet/author at the South Florida Book Festival.

The festival, being held at the African-American Research Library and Cultural Center (2650 Sistrunk Boulevard, Ft. Lauderdale 33311) – July 19th and 20th, has invited me to be a part of their 8th annual event that will feature authors from around the country.

On Saturday, July 20th, I’ll have a short reading from 2:30-2:45, followed by a panel discussion in the gallery. Books will be on sale all day.


Respek the Mic!

Hosting is something that I do. Respek the Mic! is a monthly event near downtown Fort Lauderdale, but I, alone, am not at the helm. I’m bringing my Art Prevails Project crew with me.

Read more in this beautifully-written article.


Book Release and stuff

It’s been a little over a month since my book, And the Walls Came Tumbling, has been released by Omiokun Books.

Check out a quick recap of the release party we had in FATVillage in Downtown Ft. Lauderdale.



And the Walls Came Tumbling


I am excited to announce that my debut collection of poetry, And the Walls Came Tumbling, is available to the masses.

This is truly a humbling experience for me, and I’m excited to share my work with the world. I’m honored to have been chosen by Omiokun Books for this venture. We hope that it has the impact we believe it should.

The book is both ode and elegy. It explores pain, purity, and pride. And pays homage to some of music’s greatest voices.

Please, go to to order your copy today, and help us in our mission.



Writing Workshop

In conjunction with the City of Sunrise, I’ll be facilitating teen writing workshops in September. If you are (or know) a teen that’s interested in exploring and/or creative writing and poetry talents, then this is the right workshop.

Click on the link to register.

Series 1 – Teen Poetry Workshop 2018


Grant Recipient for The Happening

This summer, I was awarded a grant from the Broward Cultural Division and Community Foundation of Broward to support The Happening: A Theatrical Mixtape, Volume II. This short video recaps one day of the show where we performed for 200 middle and high school students.


Voyage MIA Magazine Interview

Check out the great interview in the latest issue of Voyage MIA Magazine. I ruminate, pontificate, and some other multi-syllabic words that mean cool things.

Read here.


Piano Slam Workshop for MDCPS Educators

October 27, 2017 – I had the pleasure of conducting a workshop for Miami-Dade Public School educators on behalf of Piano Slam and the Dranoff International 2 Piano Foundation.

It was a thrilling day. Check out the video.


Obama Out!

As I reflect on the presidency of Barack Obama, I think back to the night of his first election. I was at a watch party in my community and the energy was electric. There tears, high-fives, and thank you Jesuses. A few of us sorta basked in what seemed like a surreal moment (much like the 2016 election.)

I immediately went home and wrote two poems. They have very different tones; they are below:

It’s Still America on November 4, 2008

A moment in history;

a modern day miracle.

But amidst all the excitement

I can’t help but be cynical.


It’s hard to believe that we’ll have a black president

in the same slave nation where Jena 6 still exists.


Behind the window where my principal sits,

a confederate flag is a reminder of this.

Though we’ve sang cumbayas and marched melodic miles,

and our blood pumps in the heart of this land,

and we may have dreams of rainbow coalitions,

And chant to the hills, YES WE CAN!




Racism is the ink that the declaration was signed with

the same pen that wrote us in as three-fifths

in the same hand that lifts the unjust gavel

and brings it down on the brown; less time for sand than gravel.

As this thing unravels,

we’ll see how ready this country really is.

To think that we are is a tough pill too swallow,

cuz I still can’t walk into most department stores and not get followed.

Maybe tomorrow; maybe then it’ll all make sense

when we officially have a black president.

Maybe a school in little Haiti will be on par with South Beach.

Maybe the price for college won’t be so far out of reach.

Maybe along with his eloquent speech and elegant smiling

will come an end to racial profiling.

Maybe we’ll see more computers and books

than crack vials and pistols.

And maybe you’ll make Marvin’s rendition of the Anthem official.

And hope your reflexes are good, so the bullets and arrows miss you.

But after all the tears and tissue and cause to celebrate,

It’s still America on November 4, 2008.


And the other…

This Victory, That Dream


On November 4th, 2008

Barack Obama was elected president of these United States.


Ahhh, this victory;

Breaking the cruel chains of history.

Putting ointment on open wounds of misery

that seemingly would never heal.

Allowing an entire people to see hope manifested,

returns on tears and pain and blood invested.

Every unheard voice can now attest it:

the American dream is real.


The dream of those centuries ago

who stepped unsure foot on foreign soil.

The dream of those that we will never know

who built this nation with tormented toil.

The dream of those who sought this place

for its promise of possibility,

from different shores, from every race

in search of true civility.


America has “regained” her nobility

and now adorns a crown of unfettered possibility

that was echoed in that mountaintop dream.

A dream that has awakened

and taken the reins from injustice and inequality

and handed them to pipe dreams and utopian notions.

A dream that has grabbed the white hand

and the black hand

and brown hand and

Walked them down that mountain to a land of whens –

Not ifs,

Not nevers.


Severed are the ties that bound us

and before us are boundless dreams

that now seem attainable –

that ribbon in the sky within reach of our fingertips;

that fountain of youth wetting our lips;

slaying dragons atop pillowy clouds;

believing you are American and saying it loud.


How’d we get here?

Not by dreaming alone,

but by doing the work of the dreamers long gone.

We are that dream’s reality at work; we are that song.

We are the belief in which the believers kept believing,

and we honor them when we keep on dreaming

and leaning on the everlasting principles of hope.

For hope is that last remaining ember of a once raging blaze;

It is the enduring symbol of all but forgotten days.

Because it’s hard to remember the past

when your present seems so grim,

and your future looks so bleak;

when the light of the world seems to dim,

and you don’t have the voice to speak

You can still hope.

Even when it’s irrational,

and cynicism seems more natural,

and every fiber of your being says, “it can’t get no better,”

you can still hope for the day

when the winds of change will blow your way,

and you no longer have to suffer or settle.


It is known what happens to a dream deferred

under the heat of an unforgiving Sun.

But defer your dream no more; live hope undeterred,

because we make the dream a living one.

One that has blown a breath of renewal into the lungs of the world.

One that has remapped futures and rerouted destinies.

One that allows mirror reflections of me to say,

“I can be what I want as long as I give the best of me.”

Let the lesson be, not that the dream is over and we’ve awakened in a blissful place,

but that the dream invigorates us to continue the race.

For life is a marathon, this victory a second wind;

Be now powered with the possibility that we can make it to the end.

Dream On!