The In the Words of Womyn workshop I lead at Tia Chucha’s was invited to prepare poetry pieces that were to be given to various city and state politicians at an upcoming community meeting panel discussion event.
After the poems were submitted it was decided, by members of the board of the organization which had extended us the invitation, to not use our poetry as some of it was seen as unsuitable to be presented to the politicians.
In order to honor the womyn who composed these pieces and to honor the vision of ITWOW to empower womyn to speak candidly, passionately, and without apology, I have published their poems here. You may find these six poems under the tag: “Poetry for Politicians.”
Tia Chucha’s will also be honoring these womyn by creating a space for our poetry to be heard; one such occasion will be at Open Mic this Friday March 12, 2010 from 8-10pm. You are all invited to come out and not only support these poets but to share your own work as well!
~Daniela Davies
I walked away!
Just like so many nights before. Walked away, but yearned to kiss her. The tension palpable in the air, but yet no kiss.
We made small talk.
“Wow. Its really ACTUALLY cold tonight.”
“Yeah it rarely gets this cold down here.”
Although the rarely cool weather in So. Cal. is something to get exited over, it was nothing like her piercing, golden eyes.
“Well, Good Night…”
“Good Night,” the words left dangling, a proposition in the unusually cool air. With obvious reluctance, we turned our separate ways. I folded my self into my little honda. I watched her walk away in my rearview mirror, and turned the key in the ignition. As I slowly pulled away from the curb, I flipped on the radio. Death Cab For Cutie, an album I borrowed from her, blared.
…Ivory lines lead, Oo wha-ho, oo wha-ho….
I smack the back button, to linger in the emo moment.
…There’s a tear in the fabric your favorite dress, and I’m sneaking glances…
What if this is the last chance I get to kiss her?
…Looking for the patterns in static, they start to make sense the longer I’m at it…
My dramatic side takes over and circles the block. I see her passing her neighbors, I want to call out to her, but decide otherwise. I return to my original spot, feeling like a complete and total idiot.
I text her:
“I feel silly…I just circled back around.. I felt like this was like this was last
chance to kiss u”
“Where are you”
“Same place lol”
“On my way”
I sat in my seat for a few seconds, feeling my pulse rise, and my hands get clammy. This would feel like fear if it didn’t feel so good. I open the door but reached back to put our anthem on repeat. I make my way around the back the of the car, wondering what’s taking her so long. I open the passenger side door, and try to sit casually. Ha, what a joke, “casually.” I’m so nervous, I can hear my pulse now. I let my mind drift to the lyrics for a minute…
…Ivory lines lead Oo wha-ho, oo wha-ho…
How many times have I sung that refrain with her ivory lines in mind? A stir in my vision, in the peripherals, brings me back to the present. As she makes her way to me, I look up.
“I feel silly. Am I silly?”
“Yes!”
“Why is this so hard? Why is it so hard to cross the barrier of friendship?”
“I don’t know.”
…Your heart is a river that flows from your chest. Through every organ Your brain is the dam. And i am the fish who can’t reach the core…
I mumble some other words about embarrassment and the silliness of the situation.
…Oh, instincts are misleading. You shouldn’t think what you’re feeling. They don’t tell you what you know you should want…
She leans forward, removing herself from the luxurious recline of my car. Fearing that she has given up on me, I catch her arm, and say
“Ok, Come here.” This is it. I’m really going to do it. I pull her close to me, our breasts pushing up against each other. I don’t expect, however, the ferocity of my need. I kiss her so hard, so hungrily. realizing that she isn’t going anywhere, and lighten up, run my hand behind her neck, into her hair, feeling the sweet, warm pressure of her lips against mine. Surprised by her playful lip nibble, I pull away, and breathlessly sigh into her mouth,
“…your skin is just as soft as I imagined it…”
A few more moments of the warm, soft kiss before we break away from each other.
I stagger to keep my balance in the heat and pounding heart beats. I crack some kind of stupid joke about holding on to my car to keep from falling over. Out of the night I hear her say,
“Well…that’s outta the way.”
I dumbly say,
“I’ll really leave this time, I promise.” Logical thoughts fight the current of hormones streaming to my brain. This time as I pull away from the curb I see fireworks. Although I know they are from Disneyland, I think, “How Moulin Rouge of me to see fireworks after that kiss.”
I make my way home, (a trip I have made easily before), and I become utterly and completely lost in Downtown Los Angeles.
~Jessie Dawson Wilson
Where there’re no shoes for tiny feet,
My heart cries out;
Where there’s no bread for a child to eat,
My heart cries out;
Where there’s no roof over an old man’s head,
My heart cries out;
Where Mother Earth is the only bed,
My heart cries out;
Where there’re no garments to keep out the cold,
My heart cries out;
Where there’s no peace for a troubled soul,
My heart cries out;
My heart is the cry of 50 million people
In 50 million sad voices made one.
~Matriz
asked to voice our knots, display our tangles
present them in beauty, fit for the public
a contradiction, a delicate artful challenge
thus this attempt, holding close the interest of we
bombarded by so much sensation, news of abuse
shooters erupt, thirst blazing, wrinkled with fears
uterus empty of mothering, broken warrior gone wild
loss felling children, uniformed walls, all distant relatives
tired, bones witness the gathering day workers storm
weary, business suits fit to neglect needs
angry, skeletons fed on promises of better tomorrow
self-medicated, sick of bankruptcies, graduation job lies
so the marchers emerge, demanding rights
to knowledge, to health, to be spectators no more
expecting a world to transform, to allow worth in this lifetime
together pounding the pavement, lifting spirits to the sky
listen to the prayer of a nation humbled by mistakes
embrace and brace for changes, expect this once and for all
rely on the wealth of the creative, let it flow into every gap
reject addictions rooted in usurped authority, robbed power
Mother Earth waits for her children to grasp their lesson
that there are natural laws greater than the toys of man
that a well being is measured by dignity beyond its own
that the abundance we seek is already in our midst
so be wise, responsive: there’s only enough time to align
~Jennifer Alumbaugh
In every community
there spans a chasm wide
between the haves, and the have nots:
those who have Hope. and those who have not
while some would argue that we are defined
by those who have money and those who have not
I tell you this:
I have been stripped of all I own
I have been deprived of what I hold dear
I have lost those I had cherished
and yet
I still possess a vast wealth
upon which no value can be laid
and for which no price can be paid
for
inside me thrives a resilient Hope
it has not be cut down
it cannot be fettered
it shall not be uprooted
so
if we each, who possess such a Hope,
would offer even a portion to those who have none
what a great and glorious transformation would occur—
consider what reconciliation might then resound
envision what futures might then flourish
imagine what dreams might then dawn
for
we must dream, because if we don’t, we will despair
we must remember, because if we don’t, we will not learn
we must write, because if we don’t, we will stay silent
we must listen, because if we don’t, we will forget
we must act, because if we don’t, we will become complacent
we must Hope, because if we don’t, we will whither
so
let us plant Hope lavishly throughout our communities
Hope in the seeds of Knowledge, Art, Culture, and Music
Hope in the seeds of Healing, Restoration, Empathy, and Compassion
Hope in the seeds of Justice, Peace, Vision, and Integrity
for
if we desire to harvest Hope, then it is Hope we must sow
~Rosalilia Mendoza
The sun always rises on the east
and sets on the west
Yet it is rare that we follow the truth
but it’s there…
In our surroundings
our community
our people…
Enough is enough
With the two-faced politics…
We don’t need a solution
What we need is a revolution
Teachers were meant to teach
Free and liberate young minds
Yet, they’re laid off time after time
So what of the youth’s future?
Our valley is beautiful and brown
So why continue to tear it down?
With factories in every corner of San Fernando Road
Nuclear plants that fog up the ranches of
Lake View terrace and Sunland’s dew
no wonder we feel blue
when our valley is dying
With the smog, and pollution
I’m not asking for a resolution
But enough is enough
with the two-faced politics…
When our community falls sick,
When you decide between their well-being or profit?
Yes there are clinics that take children,
But why not insurance for our young men and women
Without a job or healthcare?
Enough is enough
with the two-faced politics…
Supporting corporate businesses
Like Best Buy and Lowell’s by Paxton
“It will open more jobs” they say…
Instead of supporting local stores
Growers, vendors, Tamaleros, Taqueros…
What will be of them once these corporate giants open?
Now let’s talk about the unspoken…
Cutting funds from community efforts
And alternative spaces
Or the Cesar Chavez days
Is like cutting our youth’s veins
So enough with the complaints
And begin to wonder why
We see blood on our streets
And people dying in vain
Enough is enough with
Two-faced politics…
~Leslie
We pray.
No more raping of the earth.
Feel the wind as it sweeps
across the sand.
Hear the ocean’s roar
Taste it’s salt.
See the mountains
Silent and dignified
Stretching into the sky.
We pray.
No more raping of the children.
Let them bite into a fruit
Race barefoot into the summer’s night.
The miracle began
with their birth.
We pray.
No more raping of women.
Standing as they are
Greeting the day
Keepers of the fire.
Honor them.
We pray.
No more raping of men.
Standing as they are
Greeting the day
Keepers of the fire.
Honor them.
We pray.
No more raping of
the four legged,
the winged creatures,
the swimmers.
We pray
for our political leaders.
~Kelly Ochoa
Que estas fumando, marijuana?
Si comadre, pero estas dias
le dicen, “medical marijuana”
tu sabes “mota”
Mota?
As in Manny Mota con Los Dojers?
No, as in medical marijuana.
What’s so wrong with it?
Is it not acceptable
but neither was same-sex marriage
just up until a few years ago
Marijuana is not being hooked on drugs
Marijuana comes from Mother Earth
drugs are heroin, crack/cocaine, speed/crystal meth
to include prescription drugs and biggest of them all is
Alcohol
Isn’t it strange how everything I just mentioned
is all “man made”
I once heard a quote by Bob Marley
it goes as follows:
“Herb is the healing of a nation,
Alcohol is the destruction.”
How true is that statement?
There is something so wrong with that picture
Why is alcohol legal
and marijuana not?
I’ll tell you why—
because it’s all about
Politics and the mighty Dollar
So please Mr. Mayor,
Please pass this message onto Mr. Schwarzenegger
If marijuana were to be taxed
California could be out of debt in one year
Doesn’t take a rocket scientist
to figure that one out.
~Leslie
How deep is your pain?
Do you caress it
Stroking it gently. Embracing urgently.
Demanding. Asking. Receiving.
Like lovers on the rebound?
Do you feel it like a mother nursing her infant
Cradling and lifting the infant to her breast
Sucking with hunger. Sucking for comfort?
Are you a walking, talking, functioning maniac
with multiple personalities?
A lonely calavera dancing to a cumbia?
Do you deny, justify, or defend?
Where did it come from?
A widow in mourning, an unkind word, a victim of…?
Sleeping through winter,
Blanketed under the weight of words unsaid.
Memories forming into myths.
Journey halted.
How deep is your pain?
Did you put your Creator on trial?
You as witness, prosecutor and judge
Guilty as charged?
Faith just a name for a girl.
–Lindsey Marcus @ I Run in Heels
A year ago, my brother Seth and Ali, his girlfriend of 2 years, visited my parents in Oklahoma. While Ali appreciated the family-centric culture of our hometown, she commented on the emphasis on getting married young. Girls remarked she had the “patience of Job” at not receiving a ring by this point in the relationship. When she went to our high school’s homecoming festivities, the queen candidates expressed future goals of finding the men of their dreams and getting married. Though most of my brother’s friends are in their early twenties, most are either married or hope to be soon.
The positive side of this is that family is given such high value, but as someone who’s 30 and single, I have also seen the great benefits of having time to grow and develop on my own. I’m not writing this to knock people who marry young. I know plenty of couples that married right out of high school, during college, or soon after, that have had long-lasting, successful marriages. But I do want to encourage people who’ve chosen or found themselves on a different route.
I’ve had a myriad of experiences over the last several years that I probably wouldn’t have had if I’d been married. I studied art and Medieval spirituality in Italy, taught American group dances and English in Poland, auditioned for American Gladiators and met Hulk Hogan, competed in 6 triathlons, moved cross-country to attend grad school, danced on the stage of Dancing with the Stars, and I’m currently training for my first marathon.
All that to say I’m not sitting at home, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for someone to come and “complete” me. It’s very empowering to find your first job or place to live, to set up a retirement account, to travel on your own, and to do these and many other things without the safety net of a spouse. So while you may have days of something-less-than-enthusiasm over your single state, I’m going to suggest you do something radical…embrace it.
Say “table for one” with confidence.
Go to that movie you’ve been dying to see…by yourself.
Buy something you’ve been eyeing and don’t worry about having to tell anyone about it!
Flirt!
Spend a day/week/month experiencing a new neighborhood/city/country on your own.
Enjoy your own company.
The poet Mary Oliver states it beautifully:
“When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. When its over, I don’t want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real. I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument. I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”
Here’s to amazement, taking the world in our arms, and doing more than simply visiting!
