Tag: Writing

2023: The Year of Grief

· 3 Comments ·

I lost my best friend in February. I found out she was sick in January and was told she would survive for a few more years if I put her on a special diet. No cause for alarm. Everything would be fine.

            Not even a month later she died in my arms.

I could save her – potentially – if I had 4000 dollars and a car to drive 3 hours away to a vet who would keep her for ten days. Maybe that will work.

            Just maybe she’ll live.

            It’s her best shot.

            The only thing echoing in my head: “I don’t want her to die alone.”

(more…)

Grief

· 1 Comment ·

I was born with a dark twin

Similarly unwanted, but relied on.

They were a small, black mutt

With wiry black fur, oversized ears,

And large dark eyes.

Born together and bonded together.

This being became my trusted companion

Shield me, drove me, broke me

I ignored it

I hated it

I dismissed it.

But it was always there

Patiently following me wherever I went.

Growing in size and power

Until I could no longer ignore it.

Until I heard its loud breathing

And disgruntled growls and roars.

Until I heard the heavy thuds

Of its paws 

as it trailed behind me.

Until I felt its wiry fur as it slept beside me.

As I saw its dark form

At the foot of my bed,

In the corner of my office,

Sleeping at my feet while I wrote,

Cuddling next to me on the couch,

Eating my scraps as I cooked.

Patient, protective, heartbroken.

I sit cross legged on my bed

The beast sitting on all fours in front of me.

Our eyes locked

Our breathes uneven,

And I tentatively reach out

And stroke its dark fur

And it rests its big cheeks

In the palm of my hand

And I cry as the beast unfurls 

And lies down, resting its head in my lap

And I stroke its fur.

Cosmic Phoenix

· 1 Comment ·

Long has the cosmic phoenix held sway over me

The bringer of hope and destroyer of worlds.

A being of pure energy; capable of great cruelty and beauty.

Agender, transgender nonbinary, all used to describe me

And I find myself a spectrum bound in human form.

Long has the cosmic phoenix held sway over me

For some people consider aro-aces to be fantasy;

Hungering only for trusted company and cosmic wonders.

A being of pure energy; capable of great cruelty and beauty.

This mortal coil, a weapon used against me.

Always the mirror distorting my reflection.

Long has the cosmic phoenix held sway over me.

It’s not that I don’t have an identity.

It’s that you cannot understand me,

A being of pure energy; capable of great cruelty and beauty.

Don’t try to cage me

With your preconceived notions of who I should be.

Long has the cosmic phoenix held sway over me.

A being of pure energy; capable of great cruelty and beauty.

Who Killed Efrain Romero De La Rosa

· 1 Comment ·

I’m not currently going through my writing folders and publish crap I wrote ages ago. Nope, not me.

Who Killed Efrain Romero De La Rosa

Who killed Efrain Romero De La Rosa, a man of 40, who struggled with schizophrenia?

Not us, says the American voters

We’re just waiting for this to blow over

Yeah, we voted for Trump, what of it?

We don’t want nobody dying

And, yeah, solitary confinement sounds horrifying

But it’s him or us, you see

That’s what they say on TV

Who killed Carlos Hernandez Vasquez, a boy of sixteen who was found unresponsive?

Not us, says Border Patrol

We had everything under control.

He was cared for.

Don’t ask me why no one was sent for

Don’t ask why he had to die

There are so many in here

One or two are bound to disappear

Who killed Roxsana Hernandez Rodriguez, her only crime being transgender and HIV positive?

Not us, says ICE

Our inmates’ health is our number one priority

But we must maintain the utmost authority

Roxsana was already trouble

And the lads wanted a chuckle

So we put her in the cooler

Then the lads grew crueler

Who killed Johana Medina Leon, a transgender woman on the cusp of achieving asylum?

Not I, says Corey A. Price

You all are always looking for a reason to blame ICE

It wasn’t our fault, honest!

It was her own diseased body that gave up on her

Besides she’s the ones we need to deter

Those who bring in diseases to our fair land

I’m sure Trump has a grand plan

Who killed Osmar Epifanio Gonzalez-Gadba, a man lost in segregation and withdrawal?

Not I, says Mitch McConnell,

The rest of the party nodding along

Glad his suffering wasn’t prolonged

Had to be segregated, so I was told

Proud the ICE officers exhibited self-control

Man who sees things is unnerving

And I think your criticism is undeserving

Who killed Jeancarlo Jimenez-Joseph, who struggled with psychosis?

Not I says Bill Barr

Picking the remains of the DOJ out of his teeth

I imagine not all was well underneath

In his mind, you know how they are

Best thing to do is keep them afar

Don’t misunderstand me, wouldn’t want them to perish

But it’s a thought that many Americans cherish.

Who killed Felipe Gomez Alonso, a boy of eight whose infection was allowed to grow?

Not I, says Kirstjen Nielsen

And it wasn’t because he wasn’t European

It’s not our fault he got an infection

While lying in cages that are not cages, in a dirty section

And the same goes for Juan de Leon Gutierrez and Jakelin Caal Maquin

They bring the disease with them as they sneak in.

Our facilities are clean and Trump’s policies are a win

Who killed Darlyn Cristabel Cordova-Valle, a girl of ten with spirit strong, but heart so frail

It was I says Stephen Miller

With pride

I was glad to watch her suffer and die

As she begged to see her mother

And thrown in where she belongs, with the others.

It is part of my plan

To cleanse this land

Who killed Wilmer Josue Ramirez Vasquez, a boy of 2 and a half months?

Not I says Mike Pence

And frankly I believe the media is being a bit dense

I’ve been to the facilities

They’ve been provided with all necessary utilities

No one enjoys when babies die

But the responsibility is not yours or mine

After all, God blessed us, not them. 

Who killed Mariee Juarez, a 20 months old baby?

I did, says Donald Trump

And I did it better than anyone

Now I won’t say it was fun, but I’m glad it’s done

And I’ll kill more, you’ll see, the numbers will be huge

I’ll single-handedly stop the deluge

I’m the only one who can do it

See, I’m the chosen one, I simply can’t quit!

A Bad Day in July

· 1 Comment ·

I’m tired

I’m tired of having to care about spreadsheets and other stupid things

When my world is dying

And my friends are dying

And the country I thought I knew and love

Never existed

And the country I”m left with

Isn’t worth saving

But it’s my home

And I’m afraid of leaving 

Everything I know.

But how can i stay

In a home that doesn’t want me?

That wants to kill me?

But first it’ll kill my friends

And my neighbors

And the people who make up the background of my life

People I don’t notice until they are gone.

I ride the bus and look at all the businesses

And people

And houses

And I ask myself, “will I notice when people start disappearing?”

Or am I so cocooned in my own white bullshit

I won’t even be aware anyone’s gone?

How many people have to disappear for anyone to care?

Not 1 million.

Not even 6 million.

I am busy

But am I making a difference?

Always asking am I involved with the right groups?

I’m never doing enough.

This isn’t a revolution

But I know one is coming.

Where do I find it?

How do I find it?

Am I brave enough for it?

How am I supposed to function?

How are any of us supposed to function?

I want to stop functioning.

I want to stop doing anything that contributes to this fucked up society

I want to step out

I want to lay down my sword and my pen

I want to sleep

And when I wake, I want to rip this world in two

I don’t want to be trapped in my whiteness

My middle-class nature

My bourgeoise upbringing

My nine-to-five, pay the bills on time

Always the rule follower

Spineless sycophant

Who needs everyone to love them

And be happy with them

Because all I’ve ever known is rejection and violence.

But I am response for four mentally ill people

Who I love

And I can’t retreat

Because where will we live?

How will we eat?

And that is how the system traps you

Because I have no community

And I don’t know how to build one

Because I hate people

And I hate vulnerability

And I’m so fucking tired of being treated less than human

And I’m so fucking tired of forced social interactions

I’ve never found my people

And I’m too scared to start looking

Because it requires too much from me

And so I’m trapped

Trapped in my trauma and my father’s horror

And my whiteness and my money

And I just want to claw out

But I’m afraid of blood.

Afraid of who I’ll cut 

During my mad escape

Afraid of where I’ll end up.

The fear of losing everything keeps you enslaved.

I have a life that many people would want.

I am safer than many of my peers and friends

I have a good place to live

I have a good job with good benefits

I’ve kept my family with me

They are alive and getting the help they need.

I am grateful for what I have

But it is also a heavy source of shame

Because I have it and don’t do enough with it

Because I have it when so many people don’t.

Because I can’t count the people I’ve harmed to get it.

Because I haven’t untangled how my whiteness helped me.

Because I can’t say that when the revolution comes, 

I should be spared.