I marvel at how
ever since I was
somethingteen
my life has been
p u n c t u a t e d
by this cycle
this ritual
this
period
.
without even asking my permission
it began to define me
“You are now
a woman”
period
.
but I was still
just a girl
and all the
bleeding
and aching
and rending of
flesh
from
flesh
all the
sloughing off of skin
shedding of the old womb
the unused womb
just felt gross
period
.
not noble
not earthywisegoddess
just awkward
period
.
terrified of that
ill-fated day
when
doom-of-all-doom
tampon would overflow
pad would overflow
panties
onto
pants
bleeding into
public view
nightmare
mortification
I hate this
period
.
but this will define me
I am now woman
I am creator
life-giver
identity in motherhood
those who may be birthed of
my loins
will validate me
mother
woman
period
.
what if I mother in other ways
than conceiving
and delivering
from my
womb?
what if I call those ones
children
who
of my flesh were not born
but to my soul
are eternally knit?
what if my mind
is more fertile
than my
uterus?
what if poems
and programs
and
transforming community
are my offspring?
period
.
am I still a woman?
and if I don’t think it
beautiful
or
magical
that my insides
twist
and
wrench
while
flesh
tears from
flesh
while I still deliver reports
compile data
network and visioneer
unflinching
am I still a woman?
these seasons are a part of me
winter
spring
summer
and
autumn
cycling through my body
through my soul
every 28 days
period
.
woman is who I am
period
.
blood
and
softness
and
compassion
and
nurturing
and
fierce
and
intuition
and
tender
and
strong
and
wound
and
create
and
conceive
and
labor
and
agony
and
empathy
I am so excited to announce that a new chapter of In the Words of Womyn will be coming soon to the Heart of Texas! Please stay tuned here for more details about the dates and location.
Remember that one time, you were biking up a huge hill and you just kept telling yourself, “Slow and steady, slow and steady, just keep pedaling slow and steady and you *will* make it!” And remember how you decided to adopt that mantra in your life to keep yourself focused and encouraged–even though so many times other people zoomed right past you making you doubt where you were in your process and progress toward your dreams?
Well, I just wanted to say thanks–for sticking it out, for not giving up. Because it isn’t all in vain. Because you are becoming. Because things are h a p p e n i n g. Because I’m proud of you. ♥
I walk across the schoolyard
kids chase each other
a smaller boy cries
“You’re cheating! You’re cheating!”
as he tries to keep up with
the bigger boys playing keep-away
I see this concrete “yard”
enclosed on all sides by
corridors of classrooms
The spaces between buildings
connected by tall fences
I look around at these faces
these children dressed in
uniform navy slacks and white shirts:
regulating colors leaves no room
for showing true colors
At another school I travel to
one with older kids
officers strut the grounds
watchin’ their six
keepin’ an eye on certain youth
I think about what these
kids are being trained for
where these youth are
being prepared to go
with all these fences and officers
are we preparing students for
college and productive lives or
are we just raising up inmates?
The school-to-prison pipeline
ain’t no joke
costs less to send a kid to college
but no one listens when someone’s makin’ a
profit off of prisoners
I’m here within this system
yet outside of it as well
I’m on this unrelenting
assembly line of No Child Left Behind
that conveys so many kids
straight into their own destruction
like Lucy and Ethel
I try to make a difference
helping as many as I can
but they just keep coming down the line:
broken
illiterate
angry
hurting
raging
terrified
aching
insecure
moving faster than I can work
not enough of us on the line
not enough of us can afford it here
we’re not making ends meet
but they just keep cranking kids through
and test scores bring funding
shiny banners hanging out front
maybe even a new animated billboard
teaching kids to pass tests
rather than to think and make decisions
life is not a multiple choice question
we don’t have the luxury of just filling in the blank
I look up from writing this
look out the window at kids
laughing, playing, running
around this concrete yard
and I wonder
just what the hell
are we preparing our children for?
I would write love on my arms
in dripping ink
so that every time we embraced
a little would rub off on you
I would write love on my eyes
so that every time you looked into them
you would find love there
and you could rest for a moment
I would write love on my tongue
with a burning coal
branding it forever
so that each time I spoke
each word that flowed from my mouth
would have first been touched with love
I would write love all over the world
so that everywhere you looked
you could not escape
you could not hide
you could not be without it
and
I would write love on your arms
in permanent ink
tattoo it
over the scars
over the pin-striped pattern of pain
over the void
over the despair
over the echoing emptiness
and if it began to fade
I would write it again
until you believed
and again
until you felt
and again
until you loved
yourself
Sym·bi·o·sis.noun \ˌsim-bē-ˈō-səs,\: a cooperative relationship; an intimate association or close union of two dissimilar organisms.
In the Words of Womyn = body of womyn writers. Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural = transformative arts space & community center. ITWOW + Tia Chucha’s = symbiosis.
ITWOW began with an experience…a resounding void of womyn voices on the mic at a weekly open mic event. That experience turned into ideas and vision. Those ideas turned into dialogue. And dialogue turned into action: the creation of a womyn’s writing circle workshop on January 15, 2010.
Since 2010, In the Words of Womyn has held six 10-week workshop sessions connecting with over 60 womyn from all over San Fernando Valley and Los Angeles County. During that time, more womyn are stepping up to the mic each week at open mic; ITWOW showcased five womyn poets at Tia Chucha’s 2011 annual Celebrating Words Festival; in 2011, ITWOW teamed up with singer/songwriter Tapia Corel to create a quarterly event called Womyn’s Words and Music Night showcasing the talents, artistry, strength and beauty of womyn musicians and writers; and ITWOW website has published over 75 poems, stories, and memoir excerpts.
While the vision for ITWOW began as mine, it has become a community vision adopted not only by the many womyn inspired by and empowered by ITWOW, but also by Tia Chucha’s without which this vision never would have had a place to be planted and BLOOM!
I am so thankful to Tia Chucha’s co-founder Trini Rodriguez along with her incredible staff who have enthusiastically supported the ITWOW vision and mission from the very beginning. Tia Chucha’s has lavished gracious hospitality in allowing ITWOW to be held at the Centro weekly and has also created countless opportunities for womyn writers to be inspired, nurtured, and empowered. I have been deeply transformed by the people, the art, the opportunities and the community of Tia Chucha’s–both as a writer and as an individual.
Tia Chucha’s has the incredible opportunity to create a documentary and book highlighting the transformative work accomplished in the Northeast San Fernando Valley through arts programming. Tia Chucha’s is a non-profit independent bookstore and community cultural center. Not only is it the only bookstore for miles…and miles around, but is also one of the only spaces in the area offering FREE workshops and programming in music, art, culture, gardening, healthy living, and much more to kids, youth, and adults.
I’m inviting you to join with In the Words of Womyn to support the incredible work being done through spaces like Tia Chucha’s, where art and minds meet for a change and where Art Transforms Communities. If you, or someone you know, has been inspired and transformed through the presence and programming of Tia Chucha’s, please offer up your gratitude and support by donating. Whatever amount you can give–from your heart to Tia Chucha’s–will be sown into fertile ground and the harvest will indeed be bountiful!
To learn more about Tia Chucha’s and to donate, please go to their website. For those of you who already know and love Tia Chucha’s, check out this video clip and information about the Art Transforms Communities documentary/book project; you can donate there as well.
Thank you friends, family, and community!
With much love and respect, ~Jenuine
I’m sitting here
lights down low
candles all a glow
my stomach is churning
I’m about to go on stage
but not quite yet
it is the before
music is playing
and all I can think about is how much
I want to hold your hand
I wish you were here
These moments that are mine
only mine
I want to share with you
these secrets
stories
sorrows
and songs are mine
have only been mine
but I want to share them
I desire you
not because I need you
I can change my own tires
plunge my own toilet
replace that headlight
walk myself home
pick myself up
but I want you
I want you
to dirty your hands with life along with me
to inspire me and be inspired by me
to walk beside me headlong into the storm, together
to offer your safe hand when I’ve lost my ground
to say goodnight on the same side of the door
I desire you
not because I am anything less than
whole without you
but because
I long for you
I ache for you
I crave you
Body and soul
I want you out of this mirage
and into this life with me
tangible
for some it is
a glass of wine
to unwind
at the end of a stressful day
for others
a grueling and intense
session at the gym
to work off steam
for some it is
headphones in the ears
and volume on blast
not a second thought
spent on the past
for others
it’s a slow drag
then passed along
exhaling worries
out with the smoke
for me
it is this pen
and these pages
these words
and this emotion
you may keep
your spirits and
your stairmaster
you may have
your music
and your substances
but leave for me
Poetry
on the page
I am free
this pen takes me
anywhere I want to be
I can plunge down deep
digging into the depths of despair
or I can traverse the tricky
terrain of life’s troublesome trials
I can linger a while in lament
or I can relish a reverie of the ridiculous
I can soar high on the strong wing of hope
or I can anguish in the longings of love
I can roar and storm with rage
or I can whisper a gentle rainfall of tears
I have
no limits
no rules
no borders
no authorities
no judgments
save my own
but even those I put on mute
while pen glides
across paper
leaving ink footprints in the shape of
words
thoughts
images
moments
here
is where I
find
become
am myself
fully
deeply
exquisitely
Poetry is my
favorite mirror
in which to
gaze upon my soul’s countenance
an image I carry with me
when forced through
the madhouse maze of
distorted carnival mirrors
Poetry reminds me
who I am
and
who I want to be
in Poetry
I am not white
I am not female
I simply am
experience
movement
human
the greatest change
begins not with world leaders
and heads of state
I will not be ruled by hate
the most epic transformation
occurs not in the spotlight
of the world stage
I choose to heal
the grandest evolution
is not what can be seen
in the mirrors of the Hubble
I will seek truth
it begins small
tiny as a seed
just one letter:
I
I choose compassion
I draw the line
I choose to thrive
I respect myself
I choose to hope
I will not be bound by fear
I choose to take action
I will let go
I choose to break cycles of violence
I will be authentic
I choose to feel
I will not stay silent
I choose to forgive
myself
and
others
