Electric company

 When the power goes off 

in the mountains

we snuggled close, letting the

electricity of bodies light up 

the room brighter 

than any fire ever could 

—

April PAD day 11 - powered 

tickled

 There are not 

enough fingers or toes to 

count how much 

you tickle me

—

April PAD day 12 - counting poem 

Heart of glass

 When they tell you 

to make art of your pain

they don’t tell you

that you’re going to feel it

so deeply that it

rewrites your insides 

like doodles

on scraps of paper

that harden into glass and scrape

your insides raw red

that each of those glass shards 

are pieces of a 

shattered heart 

that you can’t quite

remember the shape of

that your fingers will bleed on 

each hard edge wiggled 

into place 

in this miserable mosaic 

that breathes with the artist’s breath 

just barely 

— 

April PAD day 8 - “they never tell you” poem

Captivated

Catching up with you is 

like catching butterflies

elusive and brief but beautiful 

__

April PAD day 4 - “catch up” poem 

If my life is like a tree

have I let myself 

be rooted in the 

shade of others? 

Have I turned my leaves 

toward any shiny object 

mistaking it for sun? 

Do the twists and turns 

of my journey 

gnarl like an oak 

or splay to the sides 

like a cedar 

solid trunk and 

feathery fronds

facing the sky

entrancing strangers 

with the fragrant tales 

of a life that has

weathered sun 

and storms 

bark rough 

patterned like henna 

with a story all 

it’s own

—

April PAD day 3 - a smell poem 

The crooks

Inspired by Resmaa Menakem's work and teachings ... and a recent podcast he was on

Your body was 

not your own

it served at 

the pleasure of 

the kings and elites

their feasts and 

festivities fueled by 

the blood and 

sweat and tears 

of laborers and peasants

whose skin was 

darkened by dirt 

sun-baked in fields 

you weren't allowed 

to ever eat from

servitude and subordination

a birthright passed 

down through your 

bloodied European bodies

and only deemed white

once you were 

able to turn

that generational rage 

outward, to reclaim 

a sovereignty of self

stolen from you

by stealing the 

land, languages, lives 

of pigmented people 

on a new land 

you would rape

and pillage the 

same way your 

predecessors were on

your own ancestral homelands

--

April PAD Day 7 prompt: villain