Crisis Unblocked

I keep saying to myself, I need to put my thoughts down. And while I have so much to say about the current events beyond regurgitated memes and Twitter screenshots - I also have nothing to say that likely hasn’t already been said. I haven’t written in so long, for many reasons. But mainly because I am no expert in anything, my thoughts are just that. Inspiration historically came via desperation. Previously have joked about only writing when I have a broken heart. Romantically speaking. The truth is my heart is broken. My heart is breaking for humanity. All the time and energy we have spent criticizing one another for our differences, the powers at be in a tug of war - While our city suffers. Our ideologies have overshadowed what we claim to want to protect. This year has shown no mercy. This godforsaken virus has attacked everywhere and without discrimination. But the reality is that while we are all equal, the circumstances in which a person lives in - the how, when and where they fall ill will not be. The risk of someone catching COVID while working at a supermarket, shopping and packing my pick-up is not lost on me. She may be a single mom, putting up with all the shit that is retail during a motherfucking pandemic just to stay afloat. Without knowing one another - she is risking her life, so I do not have to. And I think, what more can I do? My lower self would say: limiting my trips to the store, being one less person is helpful. My business helps create jobs - I am participating in the economy. While that might be true, what happens when she does get sick? Quarantine time means no pay check, maybe she has no health insurance… A woman in her 40s passed away recently of COVID. I know nothing about her - but that she was in my age group. Potentially, both her parents and her children could be mourning the loss of their child and mother. I have not lost either, though I imagine these are amongst, if not the hardest to endure. Without taking away from the emotional heaviness of mourning, the socioeconomic and psychosocial imbalance now shifted in that family unit can be one so great they may never recover. The ripple effects, seismic waves changing the landscape of this very place we call home.

Solidaridad.

When they come marching

  arms raised, erect hands

  screaming rage filled chants

When they come waving torches

 flames flickering in the night's breeze

 wavering like the hate in their hearts

Fear not - my beautiful Brown, Black, Feminist, Immigrant, Jewish, Muslim, Queer, Trans hermanas and brothers,

You are not alone

I see you

I feel you

I love you

I'm with you

I am you. 

And She Was.

And there amongst 

  the chaos of familiarity,

She stood - timeless.

Where my eyes glanced,

  My heart took a second look

And my soul knew. 

 

Inspired by the lens and love of @rebelesotetic

Mexicana al Grito

 

Hijo mío, querido 

No te des por vencido 

Esta es una batalla de muchas

Que se ha peleado por siglos

 

Cielo mío

No te avergüences del mar de tu apellido

Del sol de tu cabello castaño, 

De la rica tierra de tu piel morena

De la cultura que corre por tus venas 

 

Hijos míos, adelante

Aunque nos separen

No me arrepiento de lo hecho

De sacarlos adelante

 

Tesoros Míos

Sean valientes 

Únanse a la causa 

Eleven sus voces, peleen

Por el inmigrante, el jornalero, la indígena 

Vidas mías

Que su canto al pueblo despierte 

A las injusticias que se vierten

En el corazón colectivo de nuestra gente 

Hija mía, valiente 

Eleva tu frente

Ardiente fervor,

Sagrado vientre, resiste 

En tus venas, mi sangre 

Guerrera por siempre.

Presence.

On the eve of the 18th anniversary of my brother's death, dining with grandma, I wondered: will this be our last supper? Another question I've pondered: is it harder to lose a loved one suddenly and unexpectedly or to watch them wither away slowly? Having experienced the former and currently the latter, I still don't have a definitive answer. They're both difficult to assimilate. 

While grandma remains incarnate, the inevitable nears. Every movement expends her energy tremendously. Laborious breath after laborious breath, lungs, like old balloons with minimal elasticity no longer inflate to previous capacity. No medical knowledge, background or experience can prepare one for witnessing life slowly escaping a loved one. Painful as it is, respecting and accepting reality gives way to resolve. I suppose that is the gift of being able to say goodbye - resolve. 

Last week, following her shower, I sat on the bathroom floor drying her feet.  Though not a particularly religious person, a vague memory of a biblical story: "Jesus washed someone's feet? Was it the other way around? Mhm... no se." Next: Visions, like a movie reel, of patients I've helped similarly flashed before me. Accompanying thoughts circled through my mind, of where those patients might be now? Connecting dot after dot, following decisions and experiences that prepared me .... 

Then she kissed the crown of my head. No words followed, just her cute giggle and a sincere smile. Few moments are humbling and equally empowering - this was one.

I am where I need to be - present. 

 

luna

You're beautiful baby,

Daily I should've told you

Not a day passes 

Without thinking,

Wishing to see you 

Under a new moon.

Night's reflection 

Accentuating your

Glorious curves 

Silhouette  engraved 

In my memory, branded 

My favorite tattoo.

Color of Her Voice

Sky blue

The color of her voice 

Warm summer rays

Comforting arms

Defrost this heart of mine

How I miss tender lips

Soft tickles down my spine

Ease the overkill, thoughts racing

Trampling through this mind

With one foot out the door

Though she was mine,

I was never hers 

Wrapped up in my head

Pride tore, stole - the one