Watch the Gap

To the curly haired, now-slumped over,

gloomily-looking-into-the-distance, 24 year old

sitting on the train, who gave a dollar and an apple away:

thank you.

And it is not your fault.

It is no one person’s fault.

 

If it is, it is that of a few hundred white men,

a few hundred years ago (rounding?)

who claimed their stake at power

and left a wave of predecessors in their wake –

convincing others to do the same

(blackmail, quid pro pro, survival).

 

And here we all are:

soaked in it.

No one is innocent.

We cannot just will it away, drop by drop.

 

It’s a whole other ocean we’re swimming in.

 

http://apps.urban.org/features/wealth-inequality-charts/

 

September 23, 2019

Expectations

No more blind dates and no more forced chit chat;

No more rushed sentences hoping that I’ll bite back;

No more London blokes and no more blonde women;

No more action before meaningful reflection;

No more overstepping and no more indecision;

No more pedestals and slow walking pedestrians;

No more deep sighs across a deeper blue ocean;

No more leaving my fate to other’s expectations.

 

October 13th, 2019

at the ocean

my intention,

my desire,

my secret wish

is to simplify life.

 

many men

have tried It;

we heard about it.

 

It didn’t work.

 

many women

have tried It;

we didn’t hear about it.

 

(proof enough) It didn’t work.

 

we searched for It

in churches and mosques,

temples and tall, gray shopping malls.

 

we listened for It

at TED talks, college lecture halls

and sports stadiums with 80,000 seats.

 

when fate

grants you power,

what do you do with It?

 

men decided to seek It only in themselves,

simplicity and peace and glory

owned by one hand, one heart, one tear.

 

I ask: where does the tear come from?

Where does the water come from?

I’ll start by listening there.

 

March 18, 2016.

Anxiety

When you open up about it

I’m not promising it will be easy.

.

When the air becomes thick

like white cream cheese

and you can’t simply scrape off the edges

with a knife you wonder

who else is feeling this way?

.

I thought my mother did;

but she said, “What I’m feeling is physical,”

I thought the government did;

but they said, “She’s a terrorist

and he has a mental health problem,”

I thought a suicide every thirteen minutes

would be enough to prove

our grasp on this epidemic is not tight enough.

.

I want to say,

“This is physical,”

when it crashes over me

like a war-torn tide,

daily sabotage not unlike your migraine

I wish I could go swallow an Aspirin

but one pill in the middle of an ocean

will not magically make the water calmer.

.

It is when we realize that we are

the water,

the tide,

each speck of sand we trickle onto

they are sprinkled in our bones–

not unlike the stars

the heavens will always be there,

waiting.

.

For even at your worst,

peace is always flowing;

anxiety

is not you,

it is just a word

you may not feel it now

but feel your breath–

it has not left you yet

the beauty found in nature

is found in your own skin,

still waters under roaring currents

just as Love sits

under pain,

patiently.

.

When you open up about it

I’m not promising it will be easy.

.

I’m promising it will be worth it.

.

December 20th, 2015

spread some love today and speak your truth– you are worth it

The Return

The

extraordinary

powers

of letting go,

magic

of feeling pen

on paper skin–

we are all

cut out dolls

made with razor sharp scissors

let me

let go

and make my art the way I want to.

 

I will whisper away

those sad navy blues

and caress them with specks of gold

found only at the bottom of the ocean–

a place

where all artists can drop their ink

and return

home.

 

December 4, 2015

Is there another way

I just want to be honest

here–

who wouldn’t want equality?

 

Who wouldn’t want to know

that your skin is tied to mine

and that all unknowns

competition bred

can be flushed out of our pores,

one last time,

in search of a brighter,

more natural glow?

 

Who wouldn’t want to spread love

instead of greasy, sweat shop-made

greed spiraling into a system

we have known for so long

that some seem to think it’s “normal”?

 

If empty hearts are all to be had

then lead me to an ocean,

lead me to a forest

to learn from the only souls

that know how to rise and fall,

listen and insist on Being

and nothing short of it.

 

Let the waves rise

and teach me the strength found in freedom;

let the leaves fall

and show me, effortlessly, how beautiful it can be

to let go.

 

November 22, 2015