They ask, “How do you feel?”
You struggle for a word, locked behind doors, behind walls, behind ego
One syllable words flow with passive aggression and you’ve learned that “okay” is your favorite answer
You say that they do not need to know
But emotion is asking for the permission to be voiced
Permission to rebound from closed off vocal chords but you have not given the say so
You are shut off, numbed off from the reality that you have not told the truth for a long time
You have gone through the motions and now you are stagnant waters
A pool of water stuck under night and sun, rain and light, dirt and grime, anger and joy, testing and time Continue reading HOW DO YOU FEEL
Please take a moment to listen to Genre: Urban Arts’ podcast For the People. Episode One is live today!
For The People Podcast Episode One
Continue reading For the People Podcast
Our foreheads press together as we lie
Breath exhaled from your lungs becomes entangled with mine
I am enveloped by our intimacy
Secrets I’ve never shared sit tucked away in the shadows of my memory
Now they escape my mouth again
Into a place you’ve made safe
Our foreheads press together
Our breath becomes entangled
Our selves transform into one being
Have you ever spoke to a cow before? Like a real talk with a cow? What did he/she say? What’s He/she up to? What about a flower? Do you ever look at a Rose and think, “I wonder what your eyes have seen.” How can something so beautiful like a cow get so disrespected? Nature is who we are. “Cooperating with nature allows nature to cooperate with us.” Master Qi
I was eighteen years old when I first realized There was more to this reality. It felt like an episode from Twilight Zone. I was on my way home from school when I saw it. It was a smoke mist. Not just any smoke mist. This mist was strange. This mist had an awareness of itself. This mist moved as if it knew it was moving. It followed me all the way to my house. It floated at the gate for about twenty seconds before flowing away with the wind. The mist followed me for about two weeks before I finally decided to approach it.
“Are you following me?” I asked. I felt so stupid talking to a mist. Then suddenly, the mist rose up and flew right into me. It happened so fast I didn’t even realize that I had somehow ended up in my driveway. I was so freaked out all I could do was throw up. My body felt like it had been through so much. All I remember after that is waking up alone in the middle of a cave. Continue reading Lessons From A Dragon: Story of Seth
He thought I’d fail at the monologue. Thought I’d clam up, forget words. Thought perhaps I’d run off the stage, humiliated before even stating the first line. He forgot. That back in the day, when the two of us sang duets complete with two-part harmonies and eight extremities that kept the same rhythmic time… I was composer of both parts. Of all parts. Mine and his. And when he failed to show or was too late to even attempt to appease the crowd, first I was a little panicky. Then resentful. And finally inspired. My gift and my curse – to do the work of two with (somewhat apparent) ease. So, it was I who stopped the show. First, to make room for grace… Maybe he was just late? Then to make room for a standing ovation… In his absence. What made him think…hope I would fail at the monologue? They’re just duets between you and and an absent someone. And…well…shit…after all, practice makes perfect. Practice. Had plenty of that! One day. I pray. To be free enough to live my own definition of free. Free enough. To depend on a true duet. But for now, the grace period has come and gone. The show must go on. Mano-a-Monologue.
TO THE CLOSET FEMINIST,
I know you believe in equality for all. I know you are passionate about it but afraid at the same time. I applaud you for being a feminist in the first place, whether you are a man or a woman. I know society expects you to go with the ‘status quo’ and that it will shame you if you dare step out of line.
The injustices and ignorant arguments may baffle and infuriate you, and you may want to speak out against them but you don’t because you don’t want to be isolated from the pack. Trust me, I understand. You may think you are alone, but I can promise you there are many others out there who have the same beliefs as you. All it takes to find your fellow feminists is a little courage. Don’t be afraid to be alone, you won’t be for long. It’s easier to be alone with your truth than it is to be in a crowd with lies slowly suffocating your soul.
I too have had moments where I’ve stepped out of the closet for a night, only to retreat back into the familiar safety of the darkness when I’ve been challenged by someone close to me. It’s those closest to us that we usually have the most trouble standing up to. But we have to learn to stand up for not only ourselves but also for those that do not have the privilege of having their screams for justice be heard. We need to persevere so that their throats aren’t hoarse from shouting for no reason. We can do this together. Step by step, inch by inch, unfurl your spines, ground your feet, lift your heads, and step out of the closet.
THE ONE WHO HAS TAKEN THE FIRST STEP OUT OF THE CLOSET
In the third episode of this motivational series, Rochelle tackles the subject of fear.
At the time this episode was filmed, Rochelle had a personal experience with fear. Continue reading “Morning Chat Series” Ep. 03 – Fear
Do you understand
that it matters?
All the same, it does.
You were my
very own mystery
but then you
became my door–
as eternal as the
My eyes widened
I know my place,
a metal tongue,
keeping me on the edge,
reminding me that
sometimes it can be
cold and demanding.
Did you ever experience
a White Christmas?
A child’s smile?
The first warm day in spring?
The kind of day that
grasps hope in its palm.
That’s what it was like
when I realized that it all
may really be all right.
Photo Credit: Photo by Benjamin Lambert on Unsplash
Words on the page
Yeah, they made sense
Heck, they even had a little flow at the end
But who am I writing for?
Some narcissistic group of force-fed clones?
Where were they back when it was just me?
Back when there was nobody screaming my name
I was alone with my 3-ring
Man, I remember how it used to feel,
when I’d make that pen sing!
Sometimes I contemplate my fate
Did I sell my creative soul for a taste?
Just to chase the dollar sign
Yeah, I won’t lie
It can consume at night
Success is a double-edged sword
Both promising and debilitating
Yet, I march on
Words on the page
Yeah, they make sense
Heck they even have a little flow at the end
As I peck each key
I’m writing for humanity.
Photography: Photo by Patrick Tomasso on Unsplash