Posted in expression

On Loss

many of us would rather skip mourning.

Mourn it. Bless it. Release it.

it is emotional labor that we would rather not do because it forces us to sit with our sadness until we are able to articulate it. whether it is job loss, relationship loss or the loss of a loved one we must learn to grieve the absence. grief, when confronted, has the power to help us grow.

in the moment though, the sadness can feel as though it is invading your every thought, your very being. but there is a point at which you are able to name it and that is important.

it is important because once you’re able to say “i’m sad because i mourn the loss of ______” you can begin to heal. you can celebrate the blessing of the thing/person that once brought you joy. celebrate the experiences. celebrate all the highlights. celebrate all the wins. celebrate the love.

then, you can release it.

let go of that which no longer serves your joy, your growth, your peace.

Copyright © 2021 Tamika Brown and

Inspired by a conversation with a dear friend.

Posted in creativity, expression, lust, Uncategorized

dig in

on most days

quiet consumption

will suffice

on other days

being devoured

with ravenous glee

is the only way to be sated

a look

a caress

a slight smile









in all ways

you are mine

i am yours

Copyright © 2018 Tamika Brown and

Posted in expression

Pouring Out

put the kettle on

Life is truly about ebbing and flowing; ups and downs; giving and taking. But if we are not careful, if we do not take good care of ourselves we can end up flailing about, constantly searching for our buoyancy. And of course, when we flail, we run the risk of grabbing for anything in search of salvation.

And it’s funny how it happens, we roll right along, doing the ten million things we do. Working, listening, giving, creating … constantly pouring out. All the while, not noticing our own meter. Not noticing that we are not being poured into.

Take parenting for instance. Although I haven’t done the official math on it, I believe that 100% of the time, parents will only receive about a 10% return on “parental investment”. Our children love us, but simply do not care about how much we do to, with and for them. We can bake five thousand cookies the night before a bake sale because a teacher sent a last-minute note in desperate need. We do it for the love of our children, for the support of teachers whom we also love. In return, we may/possibly/not likely receive a pre-typed thank you note in return.

Anyway, you get my meaning on that. I am not delusional enough to think that there is ever a point at which we receive in the same measure what we give. And although the numbers will differ, every aspect of our lives have a measure of input-output which should ultimately balance out.

Confession. I have a terrible problem of monitoring my meter. Whenever I commit to something, I really commit. I’m not a perfectionist but I do place a high expectation on myself to create the best thing or love honestly and without hesitation.

I also have a terrible problem of not demanding that which I pour. And because of this, I at times find myself at points of near-emptiness. All while simultaneously being filled with tears and longing. Filled with a desire to be poured into. Filled with a longing to be loved honestly and without hesitation.

It’s amazing just how much space absence can take up.

Thankfully though, I understand the importance of self-care, of saying no to other people and things. Of saying yes to myself. For now, this is enough to allow me the space to continue to grow stronger in voicing my needs with the full expectation of being poured into …

Copyright 2018 Tamika Brown and The Fyne Prynt



Posted in creative writing, creativity, expression, Uncategorized

Letters {Number 13}


My Dearest Love,
The roses have bloomed beautifully. I feared that I had pruned them back too far but seeing them in their full glory is proof that I was wrong. Isn’t it so amusing how we can take action with full confidence but in the waiting time witness that confidence wilt away?
Your Dearest Heart
—- —- —- —– —–
My Dearest Heart,
Your beauty appears in all that you touch. Every ounce of care, every moment of attention, shows through. I visited the shore to watch the sunset. In that moment, when the sun dives into the water to swim towards tomorrow, all I could think about was you.
Your Dearest Love

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and

Photo: @thafyneprynt

Posted in creative writing, creativity

Letters {Number 6}


My Dearest Love,
Do you ever wonder what it is that keeps people afloat? How is it that in times of distress or despair they remain buoyant?
The girls have been adamant about things remaining just as they have always been. I keep telling them that certainly things will change. They have to. Don’t you agree?
I so miss our conversations.
your dearest heart
—- —– —– —-
My Dearest Heart,
It is a pain not unlike that of a physical injury. The thought if you not being here is endless, yet I know that if you were here it would cause you great unhappiness.
I was idling at a stop the other day and drifted out into a memory that does not really exist. You and I were talking about all the things we wanted to do and the people we wanted to be.
I hesitate to call it a fantasy, that just seems like accepting a notion as too far fetched to ever be real.
I know that we are real.
your dearest love

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and

Photo: @thafyneprynt

Posted in culture, expression, headline, Uncategorized

Culture Commentary: Your Music Is Too Loud


Almost against my will I have been consumed this week by the trial of Michael David Dunn in the shooting death of unarmed teenager, Jordan Davis. And when I say consumed I mean, keeping tabs on progress, watching the live stream of the trial, having ‘twittersation’ about it … the whole nine yards.

And there is just so much to it: seeing the justice system in action; listening to those not involved provide their opinions; and seeing the lives of the victims, accusers and people they know literally laid out for the world to see – in the form of questions and answers.

If you are unaware of the case you can learn more here but while you’re learning, I’m just going to go ahead and share my thoughts okay? Ok. The facts as we know them are that Dunn fired 10 shots into the car the four boys were in after he got into a verbal spar with one of them because the music was “too loud”.

I am concerned.

I’m concerned that too few people seem interested in what’s happening with this case and its many implications. Like the Zimmerman trial, the defendant is accused of shooting a young Black male because he “felt threatened”.
I’m also concerned that a 45 year old man would not simply move his car or leave the parking lot altogether.
I’m concerned that all too easily the blame has been shifted to the boys in the car and that there is a sense of “they probably deserved it”.

I am dumfounded.

I can’t seem to wrap my mind around the fact that you can simply say you “felt” threatened – by people in a car and you were in your car – and fire, not one or two warning shots, but TEN shots into a vehicle at close range.
I also can’t imagine why not simply more your vehicle if you felt the music was “too loud” – after all, you pulled your vehicle up beside theirs.

I am sad.

Undoubtedly, children can do and say some really outrageous things when they are out of the presence of their caregivers (I have firsthand knowledge as a parent and as a formerly stubborn youngster). That is understandable. But how is it that we have gotten to a point where their childish/immature behavior is being met with oftentimes serious bodily harm and death?
Why are so many parents grieving the loss of their children?

I am aware that race absolutely matters.

No one ever wants to talk about the “r” word. I have mentioned that before and I wholeheartedly believe it. People who are not ‘melanin rich’ will never understand the role that race plays in everyday life, and personally I think it’s ridiculous to even have that expectation. But I do think it is important to have conversation about it.

In this particular case, the situation is simple:
– 4 Black males sitting in a parked truck with tinted windows blasting music
– 1 White male pulls up beside them, becomes agitated by their music, begins a word exchange, ends with firing 10 shots into Jordan Davis’ window

If the situation was reversed and there were 4 white males and 1 Black male ….

Would he have felt emboldened or entitled enough to pull up beside, and then ask them to turn the radio down?
Would he have felt safe enough to ride around with a concealed weapon?
Would he have been able to not even be questioned until the following day?
Would he not have been arrested and charged 3 days after the murder took place?
Would he have been able to put forth Stand Your Ground as a defense? (see Marissa Alexander)

I’m just going to leave this here for now.

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and

Photo of Jordan Russell Davis
from actionnewsjax


Posted in creative writing, creativity, expression, lust

Happy Ending


Wrapped up in a situation that all at once begs to be done and undone, calling on you to make the very best of a bad situation, turning the darkest moments into the brightest hours. But it is not real. It is “fauxed” out, draped in dressing gowns of exquisite fabrics of every imaginable hue. When you look and see how beautiful it is you become distracted by the turn of a word onto it’s head. Of course that is what he meant which is precisely why he didn’t say it to you. But instead to her, in whispers and hushed tones and plush sheets and deepest conversation. Today, that is not yours. Tomorrow will be the same. The affection that they can see, the confessions that they can hear will not be gifted to you. Dim lights, dark corners, late nights, early disappearances – that is your gift. That is what occupies your little blue box. The words are right and the passion unmatched. But when the family is gathered, the friends are near, the children are playing and there is no sweet whisper in your ear ….. where is your happy ending?

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and

Photo: @ThaFynePrynt