a month since

Liza Fernandez

A month since my birthday.
The birth of this body, this time, this heart, this mind.
A time to celebrate.
A time to reflect.
A time for silliness.

Fingers, toes, legs, arms, all in place.
Skin taut and elastic (for now).
Heart wide open.
Mind even more expansive than yesterday.
Curiosity killed the cat, not quite yet.

Here’s to failing.
And failing again.
And failing one more time.

Here’s to celebrating.
And cheering.
And doing the Dance of Joy right now, this moment.
Now this.

Here’s to tears of all sorts.
To breakdowns and breaks in general.
Here’s to light and shadows and how they pirouette before us all.
Here’s to stillness.

I am grateful to be alive.
I am honored to be living during this time.
I am embracing the year ahead with playfulness.
Let’s play.

Liza Fernandez

take take take

Jackie Robinson

We survived!
The day has come.
My man returns.
Like a marathoner, I have ripped through the silk ribbon finale.
Ok, now give me my medallion.

The fear of going at this kid alone.
The fear of having to entertain, maintain, and remain a diligent parent –
The fear of him take, take, taking from me –
Guess what?

It lives larger in my head.

When are you gonna realize, he’s a good boy.
A kind, generous, loving, boy.
No high maintenance here.
And yet.
And yet, I keep thinking he’ll take, take, take from me.

Just maintain the essentials.
Food, exercise, love, sun, sleep
Wash, rinse, repeat.
And me?
Food, exercise, love, sun, sleep, Art, repeat.
One significant difference here.

Well, maybe not.
Maybe his antler is his Art.
Chipping away everyday.
From antler to peddle-size stump.
Consistency is key. 
Thanks for the tip, Mr. Jackie Robinson.

Find Magdalena

FADE IN: two surfers.

“I found this note on my phone that I never wrote.”

“What do you mean?”

“A notepad-note-thingie that said, ‘Things are getting interesting.’ Like, what the fuck?”

“Ok…”

“I feel like I’m getting my identity stolen.”

“You would know if that was happening. You also get shit-faced a lot, so there’s that.”

“Yeah. There’s this guy in the music business who sent me an email with a legal document attached that said, ‘You better get yourself a good lawyer, see you in court.’ Like, what the fuck did I do? It haunted me. I got off Facebook, Twitter, everything.”

“Don’t let ass-fucks like that get in your way. Fuckin’ idiots, the lot of ’em.”

“I don’t know. There’s like, some darkness inside, you know.”

He rubs his chest.

And then: “Do you believe in Jesus?”

“As a religion?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Jesus seems like he was a cool dude. Not sure about his father. Look man, you might need to speak to someone.”

“Yeah. You think that’s stupid though?”

“Not in the least. I’m sure Jesus had someone to talk to, wasn’t it that Magdalena chick? Hot redhead at the table? She looks like she could’ve listened to some heavy shit.

“Yeah. I try to deal with it myself but sometimes it feels like surfing and running don’t cut it.”

“That’s cuz you’re running away.”

“Yeah. And it’s catching up to me.”

“Then find a Magdalena, dude.”

FADE OUT.

slow motion

Slow motion.
Heavy foot, right left.
Trying to shrug it off.
Get over it, just do it.

Flashes of humiliation.
Debilitating truths.
Two sides, one coin.
No one is right.
Yet it feels so real.

Jump.
Get out there, get out of your head.
Do it over and over.
Fail and fail better.
I am visited by doubt.
I am visited by weight.
I am visited by the Ghost of Comparison, who rears its lion head.

It’s mane as thick as cement.
As permanent as fake truth, fake facts.
It’s a lie, right?
Come on, pull yourself out of this muck.

A rush of cold water to the face, do it.
Do it now. Do it quick.
Heal this wound by ripping the bandaid off like, Right Now.
People are dying, hurricanes are whirling, our world is in need of less self-centeredness, more generosity.

But first, slow motion.

tomorrow

Waiting...

An ache.
A pain so sharp, it cuts.
Senses are lost in a fog, come back soon.
And there’s a void.
A real one.
Why did he have to go?

Heart beats heavy sighs and legs demand a slower pace.
It takes a million years for arms to move this way and that.
Three weeks is a very long time..
Huge.
Ginormous.
And yet, benign.

I think of those who’ve passed.
Like the pictures of Ron Heren, taped to the fatal pole, the one that ended his life.
A corner where Jackie and I must wait for the lights to change.
Death.
Leaving your loved one is like a death.
And yet, so benign.

Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.

Be tomorrow now.
Fast forward to the race’s end.
Change the lights quick.
Bring back comfort, my pillows and blankets.
Speed this time forward like a jet plane.

danger

danger

She’s beautiful to look at.
I try to ignore this as I listen.
Her fragrance wafts over me like steam.
“It’s oil,” she says, “Everyone is wearing it.”
I breathe it in, as I do her.

Danger.

Is what I sense when she speaks.
Sure, it’s the move/LA/making friends/figuring it out/living a new —
Danger.
I sniff her out with every moment, like a cat to a passing dog.
She plays with my hair.

God, that feels good.

Shame brews.
I haven’t washed in days. Well, not a real shower.
I must smell like dog.
And we went hiking to boot.
Dry land, high temperatures and mounting sweat (blame summer).
My womanhood out the window/I should’ve shaved.

Her make up is soft.
Her lips natural.
Her smile just off reach.
Her eyes… calculating.

I ask for another glass of red.

turmeric

Turmeric Tea

He stays in his crate.
Hot water boils.
Sleep is in air.
It’s quiet, except for cars whizzing like the drone of a white noise machine.

I reuse old tea bags.
Kill me.
Tea warms my chin as I type.
I breathe in the earthy smell of turmeric and ginger.

I am thinking stillness.
I am watching the heart carefully open its windows.
I must remain still, allow Grace to unfold.
Or do I disturb it? Say, “This is me! Look at me!”

Well, how much of that noise is actually me?
What am I feeling?
Ok, I am nervous. Anxious.
Heart palpitating with nerves.
Hey, nerves aren’t bad, they can be the positive side of the coin.

It’s so nice to sit here.
The day has yet to begin…
The possibilities are endless.
Turmeric, ginger, stillness, sleepy dogs, a house asleep.