The Problem with Perfection: A Poem


The problem with perfection,
is that you will always feel second
to a nonexistent number one.

No stairway can get you there,
No stretch of the limbs will bring you close.
And the fall is worse than the frustration
of chasing a goal that was never obtainable.

Striving to be free from flaw,
is not being free at all.
It’s imprisonment in thoughts of incompetency.

Mistakes are misery
And errors mean an eternity to get it right again

Like salt it will leave you craving more
Only there is no satisfaction.

Love, Peace & Afro Grease,
Tara Pook

When You Can’t Take Your Own Advice

I am often asked for advice by loved ones; whether it’s concerning bickering besties, boy drama, or some minor incident. In most cases I am well-equipped with a quick response or a listening ear. That’s just my personality; I love to help. I suppose that’s why I’m depriving myself of sleep in graduate school to become a counselor.

Though it can be effortless at times to speak hope into the lives of others, I find that it can be difficult to do the same for myself. No self-pep talk will help. No “Happy” song will do. Encouraging yourself proves not to be an easy task.

So what happens whejessie quoten you can’t take the same advice that you give? Is it all hoopla? Some may argue that it’s not practicing what you preach, but I have a different perspective.

One word pops into my head: community. We were never created to go through life alone. We just can’t do it. Great music throughout the ages extol the virtues of two, as well as remind us that one is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do.

My sister Jessie said it best:

“No matter how introverted and independent we are, God made us long for meaningful relationships with each other. That’s why we can’t do everything on our own. We need help from time to time. We’re freakin’ human.”

Even the strongest of people need someone to confide in. For years I have prided myself in being the one people turn to when in need of a good venting session or piece of advice. I would often pour out so much of myself to those who are distraught and emotionally drained that I neglected to in turn ask someone to pour into me.


Let’s Play Catch-up

“Hey, whatever happened to your blog?”

It’s still here after being horribly neglected.

Time has truly flown by since I last wrote. Why not catch-up? I could go through each and every detail, however, let’s be honest: You guys like to read, but not that much. So here’s a quick breeze through the last couple of months.


Since moving back to New York I…

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Unfortunately I have yet to try a cronut, but I am still determined. Once I find someone crazy enough to stand in line with me for over an hour, that delicious dessert is mine.


Love, Peace & Afro Grease,
Tara Pook

Got My Monthly MetroCard So I Know It’s Real


In the weeks leading up to my move to New York, I was repeatedly asked the same questions,

“Are you excited?”

“You ready?”

“Has it hit you yet?”

To be honest, it hadn’t. I tried to hype myself with Pinterest Boards and Sex in the City reruns, but it just did not work. For years I have been known by family and friends to not emote very well, and it perhaps caused some to believe I was apprehensive about leaving.

Here’s to a New Season

New Season

“It’s a new season, it’s a new day…”

Chris Brown was right- it’s never a right time to say goodbye. Though I’m moving back to the first place I called home, leaving my second home is not easy. New York made me, but Florida raised me.

Crazy for a native New Yorker to say, huh?

I learned some important (yet difficult) life lessons, fell in love a time or two, and gained some amazing friends here. It saddens me to leave, but I understand that it’s a new season for me. And with that comes tough decisions for a greater purpose.

Florida, it’s been real, but I have a dream that needs to become a reality. New York, here I come.

Love, Peace & Afro Grease,
Tara Pook