Coming up

Behind

I'm seven days behind on my poem a day and that's okay. I'll catch up.

I'm staying focused on my goals.

I'm trusting my intuition regarding certain folks in my life. Time to do some cleaning house. And that's okay.

Go me!

I'm sending love to myself for hanging in there, promoting my shows, loving my son, family and friends, selling my art, taking care of really awesome old folks and being sane. Yep.

I know

What I know is that I don't love you anymore
I know I remember the worst of us
I blame it on me being young
I blame it on the nineties
I know I love my son, the beach and the moon
I know there are times I am rearing my son with my fear
I am sorry about that
I am sorry that I have to
The world is a mean place
The world is heaven
I know that fear and faith can exist at the same time
I know folks will disagree
I am wonderful and beautiful and ugly and talented
I am my favorite flawed
I know it is no over
I know we are waiting for a fat lady to sing and end our misery
I know there is a God
She told me so
He kissed me on my cheek
I know the thought of my son has saved my life
Art makes me calm
I know I cannot sleep without setting a good free write free
I know there is nothing free about writing freely
I know I've lived too much life for it to mean nothing
I know the only way to stay alive is to breathe and breathe again
To let air in and hopefully it's clean enough to count
And let it out
Then start all over again

Me

Who am I not forgiving
Was the child I aborted a girl
Did she understand
Is there going back in time
What is on Uraeus's mind
When will the hot flashes end
Will the paranoia always follow
Will peace last
Will someone love me again
Am I lovable again
What does love look like again
What does touch feel like anymore
Will I love again
Have I ever loved before
Why is my heart this way
What way
What is he saying now
Why am I holding this hate
If I could have my father again for a day what would we talk about
Does he know how much I miss him
Can he hear me cry
Am I trying to die
Am I afraid of living
What will tomorrow look like
What about the bodies buried under buildings after the earthquake in China
What do I look like when I smile
How do I smell when I feel good
Will someone tell me a story
Will I write another story
Can I tell another tale
Is there another book in me
What does poetry mean anyway
Who will care if I don't
Who will love if I don't first
Am I brave enough to forgive
What does my forgiveness cost
Who will mind my mind if I do not
Why questions that can't be answered anyway

Run

To conjure is to create
To make something where there is nothing
There is always something
Or always nothing

Cops conjure
Didn't you know
Didn't you know there was no evidence in the back seat
Until there was evidence in the back seat

Praying mothers and gun and stick toting fathers conjure
Praying fathers and gun and stick toting mothers conjure
Don't you know we are witches
You see the spells behind our eyes and nails
We magicians
Don't you know
We create with God
We crooked our fingers
And close our eyes
And tell you what to believe

No go and run tell that

Trees

Brown

Green

V Kali and Ms. Coleman's cucumbers

Mrs. Coleman's cucumbers

Yes. Cucumbers!