Posts for June 6, 2020

I’m terrified
of
goodbyes,
but the one
thing I
would gladly
say
farewell to
is fear.
I should know
how inevitable
this is,
but 
it’s so
difficult
to greet
its possibility.
However,
I shall
persevere
and
cherish every
hello.

Today I walked with a community 
Who called out names and 
Prayed on one knee
I joined in the call and response
  No justice  –  No peace
  Know justice – Know peace
  Hands up  –  Don’t shoot
  I can’t breathe

What called me to that place?
What beckoned me to be a part of this moment in time?
Faces 
Faces of those I love 
Relationships with those I hold dear

I had to take a stand because they matter to me
Black lives and all lives matter to me
I protest disrespect for their value and worth
Love called me to action
To march
To cry out unacceptable! 
To speak up and stand up 
Stand with
Stand for what I believe in
And be part of the change
I want to see 

high-beamed lights
pass you
seemlessly

your saddened
face
flickered

the red, silken
moon
watched above

your buggie
with too many
bags

we shouldn’t
get used
to this

a door opens;
    cerulean flit

  how would you feel
fear-forced from home?

Sirens call out to sirens
in a language only they speak. My feet
feel an unusual gravity; attraction to the floor,
sinking. We understand
that language, some (even) try to shape it:
mouths, tongues
lungs emptying gouts of air
while so many start drowning. I think barefoot
would be better; but the nights, still cool
disagree. Eyes tear from hours listening
to livestreams, to silences somewhere
punctuated, but invisible.
Trying to walk in darkness;
balance gone unsteady
for the lack
of florescence. Lips part, the keen
a mimicry
this animal language trying to eclipse
machine.

Drawing down the moon
gravity sways her red tides
surging trance-like dance

A goddess awakes
as sweet scents of vanilla
lingers on the breeze

Skyclad moon rite
silver pentacle shines in
monochrome moonlight

Stregheria spells
casting shadows on mankinds
glory, a pompous blight

Selenes night sky kiss
celestial queen, granting
invocations sight

Dianas embrace
an archetypal warrior
teacher of the craft

Hecates domain
underworld sorceress
necromancers plants

Strega made potions
Hecates botany gifted
indigo visions

A seven-day trip
three before lunar light bled
three after it set

Drawing down the moon
gravity sways her red tides
surging trance-like dance

Stregheria spells
altered consciousness blooming
in lunar gardens

The sway of the trees

The flow of the water

The sun peeking over the mountains

The squish of sand between your toes

No service

Alone with yourself

Or surrounded by people

There for a good time

Nature will cleanse your soul

Give you a purpose,

And keep you going

Get out there and feel free.

I remember

Easy Street,
Bull Bay,
Jamaica,
Campari and Orange
on my breath.

I remember
faded paint
on the walls
and a cigarette
glow outside in
the distance.

There was
an Indian
shopkeeper
inhaling
Jamaican
Ganja.

There was
a young girl
in a torn
red dress,
with a ribbon
in her hair.

I could not sleep.

They is me. 
I am them. 
But it’s a lot to explain, 
And often too heavy to hold. 
So to them,
I am she. 

I understand the
open-mouth
awe-struck
fangirls
screaming 
for their celebrity savior

The painless freedom
of loving the
unobtainable

Preteen fangirl
walls garnished 
with cutouts 
from Tiger Beat
BOP & J-14

I took my mother’s hand
as we strode down the hall
and into my bedroom
to reveal four walls 
of celebrity
Not an inch of wall to spare

Twenty-two 
and still a fangirl
I sit sweaty in the seat 
of a tattoo artist
grinning as he agrees
to mark my body
with the face of 
James Baldwin
smoking a cigarette 

Fangirl for life
I scream 
from my bedroom window
I’ve found the fountain of youth
and it shines
like glitter