Lil’ One

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Dear Lil’ One,

Oh mighty one
Survival is an interesting thing.
Living from a fight or flight perspective is daunting and exhausting.
I know you know this.

And yet, here we are yet again, sitting opposite each other.
Waiting.
It’s the waiting game.
Who’ll quit first.

I want you to know
I come with peace in my heart
A white flag in my hand
Hoping we can come to some agreement.

Hoping you’ll be open to some space
A lil’ room for a shift in perspective
See what kind of information that tells us.

The truth is,
What we’ve been doing hasn’t been working.
I know you feel this.
We are spinning plates.

How about a new journey
A new path
No map, besides our instincts and love
Not fear, not competition, not stupid pride
Nothin’ but us.

There is space for you.
There is love for you.
There is possibility beyond this.

Liza Fernandez

four, five, eight

four, five, eight

FADE IN: Anne Ferney (18) and Jaquila Gilmore (16) drinking Dr. Pepper:

A: And that’s when her mom started rattin’ around Wilkinsburg going around to people’s houses, “Is my son here?” I am, like, oh my god, I don’t want ever for our family to experience that. You could see in her face that she was scared.

J: My dad. First, he’s the first one to call me. And then my mom called me. And then my best friend called me and, I didn’t know what happened.

A: The news keeps sayin’ they had an Automatic AK and I’m just thinking it couldn’t be an AK cuz they kept hearin’ the shots go off so you know he kept pulling the trigger.

J: How you actually know that, just blew my mind but OK.

A: It sounds like first person let their clip go and the second person let their clip go. They say eight people got shot. Cuz first on the news they say, “Ok, four people got shot.” The next thing you know five people comin’ up dead. I’m like, yo, they just changed from four people shot, five people shot dead, eight people shot, like. And then they brought the little baby out, like, there was kids in that house. And one of the girls was pregnant. Basically, it was six people that died. If you want to be technical.

J: I don’t know who she is, but she was pregnant and she was shot. I’m like, this is cray-zy. I gotta get out the hood, cuz this is too much.

A: My senior year, I’m tryin’ to go to Florida cuz you can graduate with a trade.

 

FADE OUT.

I carve this for you

I carve this for you

Monday afternoon in bed.
The sound of lawn being mowed in the distance
The sound of a plane zooming by
Planes make me think of my father
And how time stands still when you look up
The clouds, the moon, butterflies, how light dances for us…

My mind races
I want to do so many things
The list can feel debilitating
And then my dog weighs his head on my lap
His nose prevents me from typing.
Stop, he gently suggests.

Ok
I am making space for you, my dear old friend
Nature, Grace, Divinity.
I am carving it out.
Making space for you to guide me forward, what to do next.
The creative burst that’ll poke its head from around the corner, wooing me to –
Come this way.

Continue reading “I carve this for you”

’til you’re ready

'til you're ready

I thought I was over it.
It’s been years.
But, it’s not like it’s been years and I didn’t do shit about it.
No, I processed.
I grieved, lost my way, found the map and got back on the path.
(like a machine?)

I don’t want to cry, I tell her.
Like she’s expecting me to.
“That’s ok! You don’t have to. It’ll find its way up.”
(my jaw tightens)

No, but that’s the thing.
This ain’t my first time at the rodeo.
I’ve balled, girl.
Slobbered, face distorted and all kinds of ugly.
(I’m getting tired)

Continue reading “’til you’re ready”

singing bowl of rage

singing bowl of rage  roman games

I’m furious
I feel like I can run 10 miles
And then eat a cake, straight out of the singing bowl of Rage
Blood pulsing
Mind spouting obscenities

How did it come to this?
Why am I shooting off the mouth like a loose canon
spiraling through the atmosphere?
Where’s grace, goddamnit?

It’s about not being listened to
It’s about not being taken into account
It’s about blame
Doing it wrong
You’re bad,
Back off.

Get off –
No
No
No.

Continue reading “singing bowl of rage”

when do I come first?

when do I come first?

When do I come first?

No, that’s a real question.

Is it after peeing and before taking my probiotics?

Is it after my tea brews and before I check email?

Is it once Jackie is walked, pissed, pooed and fed?

When do I show up for me?

After cleaning up the kitchen and before the clock hits 10am?

After taking out the trash and before the rest of my to-do list comes a-knockin’?

Am I worth the investment?

Time for me hits home the hardest when I see someone else doing it.

A “Wow”, a respect, an inspiration; sometimes an anger, a jealousy, an envy – all of those feelings come flying out of —

My heart? My soul? The little voice within?

I struggle with balance everyday. I know you do too.

Call mum (it’s been a while), connect with best friend, look boyfriend in the eyeballs when he shares a story, hold off the worry/panic/stress/concern/time racing. Leave that at the door. For now. This here. A moment.

You can start now.

full day’s rest

full day's rest

Full day’s rest.

That’s what I yearn for; sleeping in, steaming soup, away from email.
Oh, don’t you worry, I hear ya.
I’ll give it to you.
You won’t be ignored.

Full day’s rest.

I want rich dreams
With puffy pillows and cuddle-monster chats, and less of this.
I want fiction and other galactic worlds, and Once upon a time’s…
Bones, don’t start to ache.
Wait it out –
’til next week, too much is at stake this weekend.

Full day’s rest.

Close your eyes more often.
Slow down; remember, “in a million years”
You can do it! I believe in you.
Snail’s pace / Nature’s race.

Hot shower.
Brush your teeth.
Shut the laptop.
Lights out.