Conversations with KB
I’ll have a dark chocolate brownie with some female intuition, faith, jazz and a sprinkle of opinions with my coffee.
Welcome to my creative space which holds my songs, short stories and poems. Stay in touch and sign up to receive notifications when a new post comes out.
Latest Blog Posts
The Fathers Heart…something I couldn’t conceive
Today I wanted to write what Fathers Day means for me after many years of processing trauma and finding a new understanding of fatherhood
So I failed an Interview….
The week started rather anxiously waiting for what I thought was the job that was going to bring me back into employment. You see, I haven’t been interviewed in over 5 years I believe and the interview at the time was an internal process so I was more than prepared. This time around, I was…
The Nesting Ground
As I recline into the nesting ground of my thoughts My eyes evade retiring for the night. It wonders and longs to be seduced by the blue lights under the covers as my ears perk at the passing sirens still parading while the city sleeps. If I could cradle and swing my scattered mind to sleep,…
Short Stories & Poems
Latest Short Stories u0026amp; Poems
Hello Old Friend
Your body felt hollow and light, out of sync as my fingers tighten and released tension to your neck. At times I was rough times smooth but all was formality because my hand had left you limp and crucified to the wall. Today was different. It was like two leaves dancing with the wind, It…
Beware of the Chameleon in sheep’s wool
Beware of the chameleon wrapped in sheeps wool for he comes with a seductive sleep when nights are lonely. He will be your footrest when your heels are dented with heaviness. When the days are cold, his breathe will gently warm your hands and his eyes will meet yours as the night slips into a…
Art on rooftops
My neck was swaying with the rooftops as my eyes were seduced by the artistic ensembles of colours, shapes and stories. Another one, and another one, there’s another one. Week on week the same sequence, yet it felt unfamiliar. My trance was interrupted as 2 gentlemen with unkempt dressings disturbed the musty air and crossed…
I have come to believe over and over again that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood.
Audre Lorde
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Beneath The Canvas 