POETRY POWER

I recently felt as if I had a lot to say, but not about any particular subject except feminism and cancer. Yet, I was having trouble expressing myself. Picture feeling a sense of chill just before speaking or even typing an email.

This fear, or as my therapists says, is anxiety linked to PTSD, has been my nemesis for just short of a year. So when I feel it coming on I typically take deep breathes and write.

Words like, cash, ice cream, cherries, carpet, puzzle will just oozed out. Sometimes few expletives will find their way into my train of thought---but it's usually random words that I find myself typing. The best one so far was gongoozle.

I'm sharing this with you, my few readers and the world wide web, of who knows who, because I think I am falling in love with the idea of writing poetry, again. You see, I started writing poems a few years back, but with a stress about myself. I couldn't identify then, what I know now to be a person that was ever so careful and crafty about her image and script. No one set this standard except for me. I was at times, very unrealistic and idealistically tied to something unreal; a pretend life of sorts that was 100% not me.

With a new lease on life, I don't want to regret a single word. I want the next 60 years (yeah, I dream of living to 100) to be glorious and filled with moments where I just let go. As a woman, I am empowered in the notion that I have a voice, just like any other person, and that voice doesn't need to fit a mold.

On that note, here is the last poem I wrote before I was hospitalized last January 2015. I'm posting it because it was almost the start of the new me I met 8 months ago.

January 11, 2015 @ 1:11pm

I started writing today because I was back in our old neighborhood, looking for a room to stay in month to month, much like how our relationship existed——month to month. 

I can honestly not believe it. 

I see your pictures everywhere and I don’t buy it. 

I don’t buy it and I won’t buy it because it’s too much of a show. 

Images like this only exist to make one feel like they are something or someone or of the moment. 

Life should not be about a picture to look cool within social circles that rely cropped crap.

Life is about living.

Being honest. 

Standing up for the truth.

Living in the truth.

So my love hang on to your black and whites and forward facing photos.

Hold on to those because its cold up in these parts and you’ll need something to burn when temperatures drop.

Linda Bellos: The Change Agent

"Let's not worship power for power's sake. There are many people who do good by being quiet, loving, helpful, generous. I happen to think that is more important than powerful and loud."

Linda Bellos

I can't remember when I came across Linda Bellos, but what struck me most about her was that she seemed to have lived two life times by the age of 30. Let me explain a bit. 

1) She was born in 1950 to a Jewish woman and a Nigerian man, both of which seem worlds apart. 

2) While noted as strong political advocate and lesbian feminist, she's also a mother and grandmother, who found love as well as herself after a divorce.

3) She rejects the term "mixed race" because attempts at defining it often leads to statutes of skin color, which in essence defeats the purpose of establishing true equality.

4) She's a thoughtful business woman, who has successfully turned her passions into a consulting agency where she educates modern workforces about equality and diversity.

5) Inclusivity is her mission. Let's celebrate hidden histories of each other.

6) Her openness about her her childhood as well as personal journeys is warming in such a way that it opens the door to talk about race, culture, sex, war, oppression and spirit.

Most importantly, the shear fact that she took time to acknowledge her person, and continues to do so, is by far inspirational to me--it's genuine. 

WOMEN BE LIKE MAGIC: Hello World

Currently, I am in the recovery phase of Ovarian Cancer and Encephalitis. This dual disease entered my life in January 19th 2015 and since that time I have never been the same. Cancer alone is enough to swallow but my encephalitis (brain inflammation) is an ongoing battle that tests my limits each and every day. On that note the phrase "I'm not sure what I'm doing but I'm getting good at it" inspired me to write about women who have vision. Why? Since diagnosed I have been hospitalized for nearly 4 months, rehabbed for 3 and underwent 21 various chemotherapy or immunosuppressant regimens. Needless to say, some days I still don't know what I am doing, mentally or physically. The inflammation causes me to forget, stutter, wobble and succumb to cerebellum overload. But I am alive and happy to share my perspective of strong women that I've researched in times of mental strife. I just kept thinking, "If they could move mountains then I can wake up today." And so I do.

Photos: My sisters and I circa 1980s.