Seattle, WA
Poet, blogger, lawyer, educator, sista, sister, aunt, daughter, mentor, friend, dog owner, lover of music and all things gluten free... Writing about all of this and more.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Listening to my grief

Thought I'd share this. I recently was interviewed on a local radio show, Here for You with Candace and Winona, about recovering from grief and loss. After the interview I felt good because the whole thing was actually quite cathartic. But a few hours later I was hit HARD, y'all. Everything that I had been dealing with truly hit me and it was quite an experience sitting in the reality of it.

The writing experience has always been a form of therapy for me as I've processed grief, but talking about it on the radio show was a whole new thing. Listening to the story of the brother who also spoke about his grief was also quite an experience.

Anyway, I'm currently listening to it and will post something later if so moved. But check it out if you want. Thanks for reading (and listening).

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Love recipe

You measure and I'll pour
and let's stir this pot together
Set it over a warm fire
and see what we can make
I don't usually follow recipes
I just let the flames blaze
Toss in a few spices
Rely on nose, fingertip, tongue, even eyeball
Crack my knuckles and dive in
blind-hoping it all comes together deliciously
And if not I'll eat it anyway
But for you...
I want to cook with some intentionality
I won't abandon my creative freedom
but I don't want to burn the rice as I sometimes do
I want you to eat and be satisfied
with hearty, love-filled, soul-feeding goodness
And I want you to know that this dish
was made just for you

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

pondering love

So, bell hooks has some WISDOM on the subject of love in her (aptly titled) book, "all about love: new visions." I read it years ago, but this weekend I cracked her book open again and, wow, is all I can say. This woman breaks it all the way down to the ground, puts it back together and then breaks it down one more time.

Just one of the insights she shared that really resonated with me was this: "Commitment to truth telling lays the groundwork for the openness and honesty that is the heartbeat of love." How often do we put up fronts or wear masks in relationships, not just romantic ones but all of our significant relationships? But when we decide to allow ourselves to be ourselves and the other person accepts, even embraces and nurtures that, that's some deep stuff.

I think the commitment to truth telling starts within. You have to be honest with yourself about who you are, what your vulnerabilities are, what your flaws are and what makes you fabulous, what you like and what you hate, etc.

Monday, February 1, 2010

lumps and scars, part two

i said i was still working on it. well, here's phase two. i've figured out now what this poem is about. like, i knew i was going somewhere with it, but to be honest, i wasn't sure where. haha. it sounds strange, i know. but anyhoo, i've added to it in light of this new perspective on the piece.


I've got lumps and I've got scars
and I've cried tears
and counted stars
and wished upon them
Seen them shooting across the sky while leaning against my love's chest
and I've plucked flower petals with bated breath
with faith to move mountains, and hope that their outcome would lead to love

I've got scars and I've got lumps
and I've run races
skipped and jumped
suppressing grunts and gasps and grumbles
Holding it all together, watching my faith crumble into smaller-than-mustard seed remnants of innocence
but balancing it all in my hands, cupping it closely like water

I'm Hope's daughter
and She reminds me that
these lumps and scars are warrior-markings
they make me beautiful
they are physical proof of my dutiful, diligent nature
that, when this part of me sleeps i can easily wake her
with my cry for freedom
my freedom song

I've come a long way, running through brick walls and scaling fences
pushing through brush, crawling through trenches
conditioning my muscles with this resistance
crying freedom in every instance where air fills my lungs

I've clung to this warrior identity
sustaining lumps and scars and cuts and bruises
holding mustard seeds and water in my hands
Because I know the Plan and I'm running after it
With all my strength


At a recent poetry joint a performer noted that she'd worked on one piece for two decades. Well, that's inspiring. Reminds me i can take my time and let my creative work product become what it will in its own due time, as long as i keep tending to it.