Grandma, the totalitarian

Add heI am not the bleached blue blond child; brown peeks, thrusts itself into my eyes, my hands, my arms, my calves, my thighs Gone, gone is the bleached blue blond child Stolen because

This was a hard poem to share because it’s deeply persynal. Racism is alive and kicking, and it manifests in some very cruel ways. I’m not sure what else to do with that pain, other than to turn it into art, and hope that things will shift in the future.
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A Blur of Fur

A Blur of Fur (2)

About 5 months ago, this lovely creature came into my life. Of course, I had to write a poem dedicated to her! Initially, I felt disappointed at the poem because most of my poems contain at least a hint of anger, this one does not. Not even a bit. But I decided to be okay with that and she looks amazing in photos, so this post needed to happen.

Red Rivers

Behold, Amerikkka, for I am your unwilling settler, I arrived here terrified With my white mother, I was only eight years LA bec

In the midst of the DACA repeal, and once again the DACA debates, I want to step back a little to remember European colonization and how they created borders to control the world. Re-frame the debate away from good citizen vs. bad non-citizen., away from legislation, away from politicians… this country is rotten from the inside out. How do we find true liberation for ourselves and all those oppressed? Not just words on a piece of paper one president can declare law and another one can simply take away. I remember many of these same debates raged before the Dream Act was enacted. Yet any victories won now seem temporary, and will  divide communities along the lines of citizen and non-citizen (similar to how amnesty programs of the 80s allowed some to gain access to citizenship but not others). Ultimately to escape these cycles, we need to think beyond reform.

Worms of Sorrow

I wrote this a few months ago when I was feeling a lot of sadness. It’s interesting to edit this piece, when in a different frame of mind. Feelings are temporary, and I’m sure I’ll taste sadness sometime soon. Unfortunately sorrow, sadness, and any emotions perceived as negative are shamed. They shouldn’t be, they are all part of what it means to feel, to be alive, to be connected to this world. This poem is a celebration and a reminder of what sorrow can feel like. It’s okay to be too sad to do anything, sometimes. We live in a world that is filled with it after all, and there are times I want to fight it, but there are times when I just allow the sadness to swallow me. Those choices are all okay.are having a