Happy Throwback Thursday! I wrote this piece for a class last year. It was based on an actual news story. (The officer in the news story did survive, thankfully!)


Originally posted on Nikewrites Blog:

It was like an out-of-body experience. I saw it happening, I knew I was the one driving, I saw the police lights, and an officer on the driver’s side speaking with the occupant. I tried to stop, swerve, so I wouldn’t hit the police car, but it happened. I didn’t notice the officer standing on the passenger side of the car, next to the guard rail of the bridge until it was too late. I saw him leap out of the way, over the rail as my car made impact with the parked police car. Shit! I was going to jail. What a way to end an already crappy day. I killed a cop. They were going to give me the max. “Cop Killer” was just added to my ever-growing rap sheet.

My head was spinning. Through my alcohol and collision induced fog, I looked up as the other officer…

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Photo credit: Joel Montes de Oca

I have been struggling to write for the last month. I’m not lacking the ideas. I’ve started several stories and jotted plenty of notes. I’ve written some amazingly deep paragraphs and story openings only to become stalled about how or where to use those words next. It’s frustrating! But I’ve realized that certain thoughts and situations have dominated my attention and shifted my focus.  (Not that some of those things didn’t need attention! I still have bills to pay to a kid to take care of!) So, I took Monday afternoon to do a writing purge. I wrote out the things that were weighing heavily on my mind. Why was that so important, you ask? Because I write emotionally. I get into my characters. When my character is upset, I’m upset. When they are happy, I’m happy. When they crack a joke, I giggle. It may sound extreme, but if I don’t feel it, you won’t feel it when you read my stories, either. Those thoughts and situations blocked my creative flow and weighed me down. Writing it out helped! Weight lifted! (Insert a happy dance >>here<<.) Now, I feel like I can dig deep and do some creating! I should probably get started as some of you will are looking forward to a Flash Fiction Friday post! ;)
Happy Wednesday, folks! :D

Vera’s Place


It’s Throwback Thursday once again! Here is another piece from 2014’s A to Z Challenge: Vera’s Place. Enjoy!

Originally posted on Nikewrites Blog:

Aunt Vera's Porch Original image found here. Aunt Vera’s Porch
Original image found here.

Aunt Vera and I sat on her front porch and watched the rain fall. We were wrapped in blankets and sitting on the lawn sofa, sipping tea.  This was the thing we did. We were experiencing a cool, steady, spring rain. The sound of the rain hitting the grass and paved surfaces was soothing. The air was clean, and most of the world hid inside, too afraid to get wet. The slick, sloshing sound of tires the of passing vehicles made against the roadway punctuated the liquid symphony.

“Me and your Uncle used to do this,” Aunt Vera said.

“I remember. I miss Uncle Vern.”

She nodded. We fell silent again. Uncle Vernon passed away a little over a year ago. It was sudden. He was the picture of heath. He went to the gym regularly, avoided junk food and took all kinds…

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Happy #TBT everyone! Here is a romantic piece from 2014’s #AtoZChallenge for your reading pleasure! Enjoy! :D

Originally posted on Nikewrites Blog:

Here is another poem from my archives. This should cover the letter ‘I’ for the A to Z Blog Challenge!  Enjoy!

No Burden's Too Heavy by Alonzo AdamsNo Burden’s Too Heavy by Alonzo Adams


I want to reach into you
and touch that part of your heart
that is scarred
and make it smooth again.
I want to be your healer.

I want to take that part of your heart
that is cold from lack of real love
and hold it next to mine.
I want to be your lover.

I want to take that piece of your mind
that is calculating every impossibility
of never loving again
and give it a safe place to rest.
I want to give you peace.

I want to wipe your eyes clear
of morning mist and late night tears
that flow in secret
so you can clearly see me standing before you
with arms out stretched, waiting for…

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Yes, it’s Thursday! Which means that I have been digging in the archives looking for a great post from the past to share with you. This poem about time seems to be fitting for the occasion! Enjoy!

Originally posted on Nikewrites Blog:

You’ve passed it by,

squandered it,

gave it away,

burned it,

and now you look back

and lament;

wasting eye water,

wishing to hold it in your hands once more.

But it’s gone!

I’ve stolen it!

It’s mine!

I hold it tight in my grasp and you will never get it back!

But I’m not so horrible.

There is more if you look.

Just know it is not available in surplus.

Supply is limited.

Grasp it and use wisely

or I’ll claim it as my own,


The Time Keeper The Time Keeper

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I is for: I Will Tell You a Truth


I will tell you a truth:

You will get hurt.

Bones will snap.

Skin will bruise.

The heart will ache.

It has to happen

And if it doesn’t,

You may want to ask yourself

If you are really living.

I will tell you a truth

I learned from watching father.

He was working in the garden

And he pruned my favorite tree.

He cut a branch and left a stub.

Then he cut it again.

And then once more closer to the trunk.

I thought of how it felt

When a new wound was touched

Or reopened.

I thought he hurt the tree

So I cried.

He told me the branch was dead

And that dead branches

Hinder growth.

Did you hear that?

Dead branches hinder growth.

I will tell you a truth.

I know you are looking for answers.

I’ve been broken and bruised.

I’m healed and living.

The dead branch was removed

And I’m growing.


I will tell you a final truth.

Dead things stay dead.

Dead things get buried

And they don’t rise again.

Living things continue to grow

As long as they are cared for

And pruned from time to time,

They will continue to grow.

They will continue to flourish.


If These Walls Could Talk


Today’s Throwback Thursday piece started with the phrase, “If these walls could talk,” and then took on a life of its own. Enjoy!

Originally posted on Nikewrites Blog:

Empty Room by Brad K. creative commons

Unspeakable things happened in this place. Things that I don’t want to remember, but I relive every day. People have come to this place to pray for me and apologize. They leave flowers and stuffed bears and balloons and candles. They try to tell me to move on. But, I can’t. I need them to listen. I just need them to listen.

I was brought to this place when I was five years old. I was told that it would be a nice place to live, and that I would have a new family that would love me and take care of me because my real mother could not. I remember crying, because my big sister, Karla, could not come with me. My new dad said she was too old and that they didn’t want a girl. My new mom didn’t say much. She had a kind face, but she…

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