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

holding

holding

I hold a cup of black tea in a Starbucks vintage mug; the tea is not their’s and tastes way better. There’s a chip on the cup. I should dispose of it but I chose not to.

I’m feeling a joyful glee in my heart cuz my partner returns home tomorrow. How four weeks has fast forward and slowed down all at once. I recall his warm soft lips and how they just fit mine.

I sit still as the sun beams down on my skin. It’s warm with a cool breeze reminding us winter is around the corner. The critical mind tells me to pull away (wrinkles, remember), but I don’t. Fly kisses from the sun reach the smile spreading across my cheeks.

I’m wondering if this is what they mean by “bliss”. This moment. On my own.
That hop-skip-and-a-jump feeling, that “skip to my lou my darling” pep to the step.
I try not to choke it; surrendering is a joy ride.

I sip.
Eyes closed.
Fly kisses to the sun and back.
Smiling.

happy birthday [boom poem for lover]

happy birthday, my love

We celebrate my beautiful man’s birthday today.
I wrote this poem when we first met.
I haven’t changed my mind on any of it.

Happy birthday, my love.

He’s quite the badass.
He’s a rebel and he’s the too cool for school.
He’s behind the crowd, he’s the slow walker, he’s the leader of the pack without trying to be.
He’s the sage and the delinquent in one.
He’s the joker, the enigma, the shadow, and then also the ray that seeps in slowly, ever so slowly, before blasting up the room.

Oh, the ever present, Sun. The Son.

He walks into a space and, “All Hail Caesar!”
But he doesn’t like that.
Maybe he doesn’t hear it?
Could be that he tries to ignore it.
I mean, come on, it’s only natural.
Stupid me, should’ve known.

He doesn’t try. He allows all to just be.
He wants to be my Savior, the good spirit in my life, but then he also drags down the rose-colored curtains.
Shoves my face closer to the ever complicated, but neatly organized, brightly-colored (never grays or lights!) and intricate onion-skins, of life.

“Look deep,” he asks of me.
Demands of me.
Softly. Kindly. Delicately.
Skin.
Hot breath.
Touch me.

He’s quite the spirit, keeps me on my toes.
Keeps me thinking and reflecting, and then questioning, and then doubting, and then pondering, and then questioning, and then asking, and then thinking again.

His presence wafts in without your notice.
You inhale him long enough to gain shape of his recognition.
Exhale, everyone.
And then BOOM.
Like, that —

He’s gone.

kodak kinda thing

90s sprinklers

We’re too far away from the pools.
Mum unfolds the sprinkler in the backyard and lets us play in the water.
My brother loves this shit.
He squeals with delight and makes sure I watch his latest Street Fighter moves.
Hee-yaa!

It’s hot with a cool breeze, the only way Melbourne summer can get, up and down like a bipolar off meds.
I feel the warm mud under my feet, I play with it between my toes.
Squish, squish.

“Liza, I just did it for you!”
I turn to appease my brother, “Ok, do it again.”
How’s mum going to get this wet grass off the floor inside?
My brother karate chops the water in midair, “Did you see that?” he screams.
“Awesome stuff!” I tell him.

Somewhere around there…
I know I will remember this moment.
I know it’s going to be a Kodak kinda thing.
I know it’ll warm my heart later in life.

My dog stops to sniff a sprawling plant taking up way too much space on the sidewalk.
I’m judging the house owner when suddenly –
I hear the sprinkler and turn around like you would an old friend calling you from down the street.
There it is oscillating from left to right, 80s eat your heart out!
And just like that…
I see my brother’s karate moves, I hear his squeals, I feel the mud between my toes.