Healer

It hasn't stopped yet

this bleeding from my weakened soul

with no feminine products in sight

no one offers a bath

they would rather watch  me drown

as I drag myself to touch the hem of His garment

I am invisible to the rest of the world

who turns a blind eye to me

reaching out to the shadow of the Almighty

who knows my name

and never forgets every detail of my life

even though the dust has covered the road

that I have walked many times over

trying to find relief

and He says:

“Go and be made whole”.

bring back our girls

bring back our girls

lives that cannot be thrown away

tossed out like garbage

like unripe fruit

picked before its time

flowers that never had a chance to bloom

bring them back

so they can flourish

they need the chance to breathe

and not inhale the foulness of old men’s breath

or feel unclean hands

and hear words not meant for their ears

bring our girls back

they are not just our future

but our present

their presence matters

to somebody

even if not to you

find them

like precious jewels in Nigerian caves of

aquamarine

emerald

amethyst

garnet

tourmaline

topaz  

zircon

and sapphire

search for them

they are wondering

they are waiting

hoping

praying

crying

wailing

for someone to come to their rescue

please

poet

sometimes i go through the motions

numb to the painful devastation

that has become my life

it’s easier to get through the day

without thinking

or feeling

they call it an emotional block

but i call it survival…

in this jungle

where I could easily become the prey

of a predator

i become invisible

speaking only when spoken to

answering when necessary

writing whenever possible

breathing through my ink

watching the world from behind paper

where no one can see me

or run from my pain

they only snap

and ask for more

i give it to them freely

because they don’t understand

that my words

are healing me

so i can live

and move on.

Domestic Violence PSA ... Get Out!

October is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month...but violence at the hands of intimate partners goes on every day. Please watch this video and feel free to pass it on...and if you or anyone you know is in an abusive situation, please get to a safe place.

Intimate Partner Violence can take many different forms. It involves physical, emotional, mental, economical, and sexual abuse. At first, the control and manipulation your partner uses can be very subtle. The abuse can and will increase over time.
  
Answer “yes” or “no” to the following questions:

• Does your partner continually criticize what you wear, what you say, how you act and how you look?
• Does your partner humiliate or make fun of you in public places and social situations?
• Does your partner often call you insulting and degrading names?
• Do you feel like you need to ask permission to go out and see your friends and family?
  Do you turn down invitations to be with your friends and family because your partner will be angry at you for going with them?
• Do you feel you need to apologize to people or make up excuses for your partner’s behavior?
• Do you feel like no matter what you do, everything is always your fault?
• If you’re late getting home, does your partner harass you about where you were and who you were with?
• Has your partner threatened to hurt you or the children if you leave?
• Does your partner force you to have sex whether you want to or not?
• Are you afraid to say no to sex?
• Have you been repeatedly accused of flirting or having sex with others?
• Does your partner restrict you from getting a job or going to school?
• Has your partner hit you or threatened to hit you?
• Do you ever explain away bruises, cuts, or other injuries as results of how “clumsy” you are?
• Do you feel nervous or afraid for your safety when your partner becomes angry?
• Are you afraid to disagree with your partner?
• Are you frightened by your partner’s violence towards other people or animals?
• Do you change your behavior or “walk on egg shells,” depending on your partner’s mood?
• Do you ever think “If only I was prettier,” or “If only I cleaned the house better,” or “If only I had kept the children quieter,” etc., “then my partner wouldn’t have been angry?”
• Has your partner ever pushed, shoved, kicked or slapped you?

If you answered "yes" to even one of these questions, you may be in an abusive relationship.

How Can I Tell If My Partner Is A Batterer?

Does your partner have any of these traits? If he does there is a good chance that he is a batterer. This list is to give you a guideline to the signs of a potential batterer. Batterers’ personality traits are not limited to these.

Does your partner:

• Have low self-esteem?
• Lack knowledge of assertiveness skills?
• Have few close friends?
• Become obsessively jealous?
• Have a history of failed relationships?
• Have a problem with authority figures?
• Come from an abusive family?
• Become very possessive?
• Use violence to get rid of tension?
• Control finances?
• State that he must know where you are at all times?
• Leave messages on your answering machine, voice mail, or text obsessively if you are not home when he calls?
• Check up on you to see if you’ve gone where you said you were going? (Follows you)
• Have a bad temper or get angry easily?

 How Dangerous Is My Abusive Partner?
Some batterers are life-endangering. It is possible to evaluate whether a batterer is likely to kill his partner or other family members. The following are indicators to be used in making an assessment of the batterer’s potential to kill. Please pay close attention to the characteristics listed here:

• Threats of homicide or suicide: The batterer who has threatened to kill himself, his partner, the children or a relative must be considered extremely dangerous.
• Fantasies of homicide or suicide: The more the batterer has developed a fantasy about who, how, when and/or where to kill, the more dangerous he may be. The batterer who has previously acted out part of a homicide or suicide fantasy may be invested in killing as a viable solution to his problem.

Please don't take any of these things lightly. If any of these things even seem to be going on, it's time to get away. It could save your life.

If you are in danger, call 9-1-1. If you can get to a safe place, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at: 1(800) 799-7223...or 1 (800) 799-7223 (TTY) For more information, please go to: www.thehotline.org/get-help if you can use a computer that cannot be tracked by the person who is harming you.

          
*Source: Women's Shelter Program of San Luis Obispo County
http://www.womensshelterslo.org/get-informed/am-i-in-an-abusive-relationship

Strange Fruit...

strange fruit

is rottening in the trees

and it’s starting to smell

the stench is killing

 we

can’t breathe

our children are being suffocated on the streets

by passers by

who hunt them down like wild animals

against official orders

not to follow

lawlessness is stifling the cries

of mothers

fathers

and the unborn

with no names

sleeping in unmarked graves

wrapped in tiny hoodies

skittle covered caskets

and hip-hop elegies

prisons built for the illiterate to live in

for those who reach eighteen

if they don’t become the new crop

of strange fruit

rottening

in the trees

their stench filling the air

and

i

can’t

breathe

natural

when strange men

touched my afro

i felt helpless

and wanted to run away

it was so violating

to feel hands in my hair

that I didn’t want

fondling and feeling

through my curls and kinks

they said it was so uncommon these days

to see a woman with a natural look

and they were fascinated

couldn't help themselves to bother asking my name

or where i came from

they just wanted to get off

in my hair

one of them wanted to know

if it was virgin

because he had never had one of those before

the other one said

that he was turned on by the smell of coconut oil

it reminded him of being on a deserted island

with just me and him

i didn’t answer

just kept quiet

hoping they would go away

but inside i was angry

wondering why a woman

has to always be subjugated with this brutality

and can’t be herself

without somebody

wanting to touch

feel

and taste

without permission

woman

 

there’s a woman who sits on the sidewalk

surrounded by her belongings

eating last night’s pizza from a greasy box

she doesn’t seem to care how close she is to the curb

rolling her eyes at the exhaust the buses leave behind

as they hurriedly turn the corner and come to a stop barely grazing her left hip

another woman passes by and gives her $2 that she quickly hides in one of her pockets

for safe keeping from desperate eyes

what has numbed her to danger

on a Thursday morning at rush hour when she could be anywhere else

having breakfast with her man

or taking her kids to school

but she’s here

with last night’s pizza that somebody left in the trash

and there’s nothing better

except to remember life

before living became so damn complicated

the sidewalk is an escape

from what was just too much to deal with in a day

out here it’s safer

than being indoors

and although most would disagree

i feel her

RED ZONE REVOLUTION

in honor of those who paint, write and sing
in RED, BLACK and GREEN
standing for the uprising
... insurrection and rebellion
against the atrocities of injustice committed by those who will escape unseen
putting pen to paper
and living dangerously in Real Evolutionary Determination
with weapons of ink
spilling literary bloodshed
spitting truth to the masses
the freedom fighters
willing to ride or die for what they believe
The Red Zone Revolution
is here to stay
showing the colors of life
and the order of the day

day #22

and this is for my sisters

who have buried countless dreams and realities

never given birth to children and aborted all of their seedlings

buried underground in winter

my sisters

who have walked away from hope because they had no other choice

the ones who stayed because they did

settling for less than they deserved

this is for my sisters

who have put their voices on the shelf

waiting for someone to speak in their behalf

because they are not whole

subjecting themselves to other people’s visions

and demanding nothing in return

my sisters

who are nameless

faceless

ageless

but not helpless

my sisters

the night the dance died

the night the dance died

bruised feet stepping lightly over paved floors

cold tiles sending spine tingling waves of electricity through the body

keeping the beat to the rhythm of the melody

high praise with extended limbs and fallen arches on releve

toes tagged on the slab of betrayal...

the night the dance died

mingling words of half-truth and untruth

roots of bitterness weaving their way between the threads of the soul

unknown entities telling stories entitled with sorrow...

the night the dance died

whispering in the dark

falling in line in broken patterns

one by one

two by two

stifled in its breath and unable to rise..

the night the dance died

no more songs of joy

only a colorful façade lights the way

before the last stanza repeats

dreaming of itself and imagining

the journey beyond...

the night the dance died

© 2012 PoetryofMotion!

All Rights Reserved

my last...

my last…
never knowing when or why
surrounded by an adoring public who can’t see past my outer core
covering inner wounds with bottles stacked high
kept in dark places...

hidden in cabinets
unknown to one another just to keep the high going
or to make the pain go away
whichever comes first as needed
i sing because i’m happy
and because i’m not…
for those who love me for my gift and not for who I am...
i exhale

whitney r.i.p.