Tag Archives: art

What a Girl Wants (or a boy) 

Isn’t it simple ?
The desires of children 
To be known
Owned 
But not in that sense 
Someone to take ownership 
To claim them
To name them
To frame them 
Their minds 
Their hearts 
Their likes
Their wants 
Aren’t they looking for knowledge ?
But not that of the world
But rather their world 
Every little boy and girl
That we notice each curl
That we look them in the eye
See them as a prize 
A gift
A treasure 
That we measure 
Them by their cans
 Not their cannots 
Or who they “ought” to be 
Aren’t they looking to me ? 

Silence 

Silenced 

To be silenced
It’s inner violence 
Being forced to withhold
A story to be told
A crushing of the inner 
A bleeding under skin and 
A heart growing dim 
She’s becoming a shadow 
A piece or a part
Not a whole 
Never whole 
Deep within the soul 
She’s Scared to make known 
What she’s been shown 
Her cover is blown 
When she takes the lid off 
How she was Forced to eat from the trough 
A Choke and cough 
From these scraps of love 
if it can be called that ? 
It was rather more like bits 
Midriffs 
Next “hits”
And their leftovers 
Can She Do overs ?
Abuse 
And hangovers 
These all meant to stifle 
Take out the rifle 
To Fire a shot 
At her voice 
That’s now here 
Loud and clear.

Faces 

A lot in recent events has me in this dance between absolute abhorrence but then realizing my responsibility is that much greater. 

Talked to a friend today , a friend that shares differing political views than me. This is ok. Absolutely ok. 

He asked me my thoughts. I gave them without sprinkling a sugar coating over top, of course. But followed up with my now realization that it is absolutely up to me.

To be informed.

To immerse myself in things I’m uncomfortable with.

To really delve into what this means for me and my family. 

So, I had this conversation this week that I couldn’t get over. Without giving major details, this friend/acquaintance of mine works at a very stressful position in linking up children and families with necessary things. She is currently working with a family that includes a mother who has fled her country. A mother who has slept in trash bags while fleeing for her family’s safety. A “refugee” or “immigrant” or “illegal alien”. 

I rather prefer to call her a woman. A mom. A FIGHTER. Strong. Courageous. Brave. 

I tell you this because of the following. 

We all are friends here on social media, in person, on the Internet , in public. And we all hold very strong beliefs , which likely won’t be swayed through this post or any other. BUT!!!!!!! 

There is always a face.

There is a face to the woman.

There are faces to her children. 

There is a face that belongs to the woman working with the family.

There are faces to these immigrants, illegal aliens. There are faces to the Muslim family. There is a face that belongs to the homosexual. 

I think sometimes our labels come without a face,Without realizing that these are ACTUAL people we are talking about. Not cartoon characters. Not characters in a book. Not people in some far away, imaginary land.

No, real, alive, breathing mankind.

So I wrote the following: 
Faces 

Traces 

Of places 

They’ve been 

Where they were unhinged 

Being binged 

By the lustful

Distrustful 

Hustlers 

The faces 

The races 

Of His people 

The equal

That we feel the need to 

Loophole 

The faces 

That hold tears 

Jeers 

And a thousand fears 

We will never have to know

The blow of

Status quo 

May we starting saying no 

And open our homes

And our hearts 

And our hands

For this is our fellow man: 

All The faces 

With all The traces

On all The races

From all The places

Grace is 

Getting what we don’t deserve 

Ball with a curve

Unexpected 

Was Wrecked 

But love affected 

Our very checkered 

Selves 

Isn’t this the same He

That can set free ? 

“THAT” humanity 

Stop the policy 

And the degrees

Modern day slavery 

And just be 

The we 

That heeds 

To the needs 

Of the faces 

With grace. 

Thanks for reading . ☺️☺️
(And watching if you look below) 

Humanity

It’s insanity 

No amnesty 

Just villanies

For humanity

I may seem radical

But I’m simply human

Can’t take it 

Cause I’m fuming 

Either that or I’m crying

Cause they’re dying

The timing 

The fake crimes and

I’m trying 

To hold it in

Not popular opinion 

In this town 

Skin isn’t Brown

So I found myself bound

And ideas shut down

These ideals

Instilled

And pushed hard just to cosign

Not think for myself

But sign on the line

But when I look at mankind

Can’t help but see the design

Can’t turn a blind eye

Or an open one no less

I will not be quiet

Start a peaceful riot

One that begins conversation

Starts persuasion

Shuts down manipulation 

Stops the comparison

Opens eyes to the marginalized

Criminalized

Ostracized

Victimized

Demonized

And begin To 

Humanize 

Instead

Humanizing another simply means seeing another individual as a human. Along with that is possibly just the acknowledgement that they be treated as such.

Who can argue with that? No, seriously, who?

Neighbor

“Love your neighbor as thyself” 

Yes, thy wealth 

Thy health 

Yes, our very own selves 

These aren’t just words

Merely verbs 

This is a call to action 

To reaction 

To fashion 

Our mentality 

To equality 

The reality is 

THIS IS HUMANITY 

Cut and created in

The very image of God

Wonderfully

Personally

Specifically

Designed

Sons and daughters

Mothers and fathers 

Brothers and sisters 

Are we listening ?!

The red words in the Bible

Mean they came from His mouth

Not a suggestion 

But to do without doubt 

See, our focus is how did these people get here ?

Oh, how we have forgotten to look in the mirror.

We ask, what will they cost? 

My response : 

Probably the same blood shed death on a cross

He died for the Muslim 

He died for the “gay”

He died for the one who

Denounces His name 

There isn’t a “chosen”

A cut out

A print

That we can mass produce

Copy 

And press send

He knows our very hairs

Not just the ones on your head 

But the count of the ones 

Some would rather see dead 

Than to be in this land 

Of the free 

And the brave 

Of the very same ones

His blood

Has the power to save 

Below is me actually reading it, in the dark, because I was too lazy to get up and turn a light on.

CLOSED 

Was thinking about how my life has opened up as I’ve opened up . Opened up about my story,  Opened up my heart to let people know me more and me know them, and ultimately Opened up my mind. 

I Was thinking on the opposite of open which is closed obviously .

So I’m thinking on all these things as I’m supposed to be in bed because I have power yoga at 830. Who wants to power through yoga at dawn? OK, it’s not technically at dawn. It is actually three hours past dawn but can’t  dawn be relative? Can’t dawn be different for everyone ?  So for me 8:30 equals dawn .

Here’s the poem I wrote when I should’ve been asleep. 

Closed 

Lay low 

Away stowed 

Info 

Into 

Who 

I used to

What 

I’ve been bruised

When

I made it through

Where 

I came to

Why

I tell you

My truth 

Stay open 

Hoping

And Noticing

On the regular 

Telling ya

We’re actually similar 

Citizen 

This is written with inspiration from Obama’s Farewell Address.

Citizen 

An underpin 

Not to weaken 

But sustain 

Change 

Identify as American 

A title

Not to take lightly 

But to live up to

The pursuit of real truth

Proof

That all are equal

People

Peaceful 

Know our role

Pay the toll

Of putting them first

Be the church

Stake in the ground 

Not lost but found-ed

On principles

For our fellows

Red and yellow

Black and white

That all citizens be precious

In our sight 

Alright ?