The Poetry Marathon

It is eleven o’clock and I’m writing this to say that I am struggling today, here without you. You have missed so many major moments: the first African-American President, the last Space Shuttle launch, my wedding, your granddaughter and so much more. It’s hard for me in June, but this year, in light of everything going on in the world, it feels harder. I am exhausted in health and in life and while I am moved by the goodness in some during these challenging times, I am so disheartened by many others. Whenever I see pelicans, butterflies or dragonflies, I know you’re there. In that, there is comfort, even in this time of uncertain chaos.

Today is a struggle, but the moments I see you in my daughter’s eyes, I am able to trudge ahead. I know by giving her a better world – and if not that, teaching her to be better than the world around us today – I am honoring you as best I can and respecting how you raised me. Your end was your peaceful beginning and in that, there is comfort and calm.

Recipe for Liberation

1. Oppression
2. Knowledge
3. Resilience
4. Compassionate Action
5. Justice

Be born 

Black and whole

see that you were never meant

to be a citizen*

Know that you are human

And whole and holy

Like every bright and shining thing on this planet

Living and inanimate

From this place of knowing

From this place of loving

Move

*see Dred Scott case – According to the US Constitution under citizen provisions, citizenship does not apply to freed slaves

She’s got numbers
She’s got neighbors

She’s got nothing but
time on her hands

She’s gotta get home
quick. She’s gotta

get up get right
get herself together

She’s got lace
She’s got lumen

She’s got everything
in the palm of her hand

To my best friend:

Dearest,

I fear I should keep your name out of this else you might identify yourself.
I know that’s kind of the point of letters but as long as I don’t name you it could be anyone.
I miss you every day we’re apart. I haven’t seen you in forever.
I know you work hard every day, and that our relationship is still strong. But I’m not done.
I need you to know that I love you. I know you might consider this taboo.
You’re so much more than a friend to me, I figured it was time to tell you.

Every day I see your posts, my heart feels a little lighter. I regret I cannot be there.
Every time you share your struggles, I hurt alongside you, I tremble and cry when you seem to.
Every beautiful thing you share makes me wonder if you know how special you are to me.
Every moment you post a meme I laugh out loud. And with all these feelings I know not what to do.
Every sad moment you share I beg myself to confess. It took me so long to realize.
Never will I truly explain the pain of loving one who is not mine to love, yet is loved in my eyes.

You’re amazing and skilled and wonderful
You’re powerful and lovely.
You’re a delight to know and know how to be forceful
You’re so far away.
You’re everything I ever wanted and even more than that
I’m unable to express my love, but the next time we meet… I’ll wear a hat.

Best friend, I love you, I have forever.
Best friend, stop loving you? I could never.
Our love might be a crime, not in our cities but in our mind.
Where we once did meet, to share dreams so sweet
I’ll see you there again sometime.

Love, Always,
Your distant friend

To the me who still believed,

I know you are hurt

afraid to get up again

of falling down again

I know you are sad

suffering, in darkness

You who used to believe

in everything good…

I think it’s time for you to believe again.

To come out in light

to get up  and walk again

maybe run (but there’s no hurry)

I think it’s time for you to

Shine Again.

It’s been a little over three years.
Can you believe how fast they’ve gone?
It feels like yesterday that we all spent the day at the Aquarium
You, in your wheelchair, laughing at the fish and the sloth
You, in a fresh ballcap, struggling with English
You, clicking your teeth and twiddling your beautiful brown hands,
the ones like West Texas mountains,
that must be busy once again
Mowing God’s lawn

Your death contracted our family
Sandwiched the generations down
to a mere 30 years’ difference
We are shuddering down, like an old wheezing Datsun
Childless, niece-less, nephew-less
We’ve built a moat
We are an island
Sole witnesses to the hardening
of my blessed saint

If I could tell you about my night,

I’d start by saying I was so tired

and I went to bed early. The door was cracked

from one of the cats pushing it open.

And I thought I was awake,

staring at the piece of hallway wall that is exposed.

I was frozen, scared, I could hear people talking.

I can’t remember what they were saying.

Then an invisible body ran at me,

I jolted and couldn’t scream.

Then I was awake,

thinking about you;

and how I would stay over at your place.

We would lay in bed together.

I felt so safe.

You were my best friend.

You had a lot of best friends. I don’t know if you knew.

Maybe you have read all my letters. If so, you already know.

I don’t know what number this one is. I lost count.

I miss showing each other our poems.

I was your muse and you were my music man.

I am scared to sleep.

Nobody can replace you.

The 498,311 (as of June 27, 2020)

Dear Friends,

I did not know you
but I can guess your lives
Filled with sorrows and joys
Loved Ones and strangers
work and rest
and good times, I hope
Until those last weeks
in pain, alone, fighting to breathe

How will we honor you
now that you are gone?
Lower the flags?
Erect a statue?
Put up a plaque?
Perhaps, in distant days

But mostly, we will fight
Seek a cure
Invent a vaccine
Learn new treatments
Slow the spread
Keep others safe
Working towards an end
Of this horrible pandemic

Rest now
We will take care
of those you left behind
Keeping your memory alive

Signed,
The World

Dear Grandmother, 

I wish you could see, my ink stained hands, 

Where he needled in birds, 10, that I could count 

But I can no longer inherit the chains I ought to love 

Was born to love, everyone says 

The wounds hurt, that held the cord connecting me to your life

I’m sorry, I clipped it, I had to make room for the wings,

Mother is often upset, as I reject, 

Our generational suffering 

We fight, she cries, I do not blame her, 

Would I leave if I had the key to the prison I was born in?

I promise you I will not birth another in a prison 

I wish you could see, no husband will leave me bloodied 

No brother will draw my bounds 

Will you be proud? Dear grandmother? 

When I say suffer, a little less than my mother? 

And a little more than my daughter, 

Love, 

Your granddaughter, who grew half a wing.