Friday, May 26, 2017

Ari

We shouldn't recoil.
We shouldn't dread.
We shouldn't fear.

But

We do.

We do recoil.
We hide.
We're afraid
With good reason.

Can loving more
Stop it?
Stop this
Heinous
Insidious
Violence
That finds us?

I have to believe
That yes,
It does.

For one young woman
To take her fear, her trauma, her
Unimaginable grief
And
Mere days later
To transform it
Into an unyielding
Force of love?

That is something.
That is the opposite
Because - to quote you -

YOU are the opposite.

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

Don't Grow Silent

I feel in shock
I feel afraid
Will I have to go back?
Will we be slaves?
Brothers, sisters,
Black and brown
Wondering
What will become
Of us -
What now?

I feel hopeless
I'm not okay
I feel angry
Not just for today.
Whether he or she or they
Brothers, sisters,
LGBTQIA
Wondering
What rights
Will we lose
Today?

I feel unsafe.
No one
Has my back.
It's for my faith I am
Under attack.
Brothers, sisters
Jew and Muslim, praying
Please, I'm not
What they are
Saying...

I feel raw
And I feel open
I feel vulnerable
Worthless, and broken.
Brothers, sisters
Disabled and Deaf
Wondering
If they kill us
Who will care?
And who will
Be left?

I feel degraded
I feel dirty
I feel powerless
I feel unworthy
Mothers, sisters,
Daughters, friends,
Survivors, girls and
Women
Wondering
Does my voice matter?
Am I limited?

We must keep talking
We must not grow silent
Because hate unchecked
Thrives.  Lives
Are at stake here.

Let not heads turn
In egregious indifference
Claiming to misunderstand
That hate, like love
Starts in the man.
(If you did not protect us
You are helping them
In harming us.)

Let not one more child
Lose their innocence
Knowing there is much to fear.

Though terror is real
We still must speak,
One voice at first,
The opposite of meek:

We are here.

(Covered in peace to guard against hate)

We are here.

(Covering each other while we wait)

We are here.

(Believing this is not our fate...)

We are here.

(Sign it

Say it

Spell it

Indicate it)

We are here.

Monday, October 3, 2016

Inspired by the QB Theme

Our friendship
Is just as complex
As we.

It
Goes up
In waves.

It
Hesi
       tates.

One day
We are surface
The next

We are in
Deep, connecting.
Always

And forever
In
Triplicate.

Clashing briefly
In our passions,
Descending

To depths
Felt
Suddenly

And only
By one another.
We breathe.

We exist
In a space
So sacred

We dare not
Disturb it.
Not perfect.

But neither are we.
One for all.
And all for three.

Friday, August 26, 2016

You Think You Know

If you think you know
The reality
Of the life
Of the fear
We live with

I beg to differ.

Because if you knew
If you really knew
Deep down in your bones
And your soul
And you felt
What it was like
To be us

You would know.

It does so much more
Than irritate us
When life-threatening ableism
Encroaches on us.

You would know.

You would know that we are more
Than interchangeable
Inspiration porn stars
Played like pawns
Like objects
To elevate you.

You would know
We deserve to live
Because we are human
Not because
We have somehow proven
We want it enough.

You, sir,
Never had to prove
A damn thing that heavy,
That grave,
To your parents
As a baby.

It's all gravy for you.
And the truth is
You don't know anything.

You know nothing at all.

You have the privilege
To pity the person who pondered
If your child
(With CP!  Just like us!  Just like me!)
Would be better off dead.

You can say,
"I thought that way, too,"
And have the
Privilege
Of being ignorant
To the fear you are striking
In the hearts of those
Just like your daughter.

Yes, the world is
Better off because we're in it,
But not because loving us makes you
A better human being somehow.
The world is better
Because it needs us -
All kinds of people -
To make it what it is.

Society needs us
Because someone needs to speak up
Against frightening people
Pitching horrifying realities.
Society needs us
To create safe spaces
Where kids like us
Feel welcome to
Exist.

We are here
Even if we are not welcome.
We are here
Even though we are not wanted.
We are here.

Get used to us.
Get used to this.

We are here.

We are here.

We are here.

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Don't Say It If You Don't Mean It

Do your thoughts
And hurt feelings
Does your frustration
And isolation
Matter more
Than our safety?

Don't rock the boat.
Don't
Put that child
In more danger.
It does not matter
What her mother
Says about what she
Does.

No one will act.
It's par for the course.

We take it.
Like it's
Usual.
Like, of course
She will.
Like
Her daughter is
What she says
She is.

If

Nothing is
Said.

Then

Nothing
Changes.

Lives are at risk
And we side
With those
Who risk them.
We say
We are sorry
To those doing the
Harming
How is that not
The worst kind of
Alarming?

A sickness
Surrounds us,
And I am
Sick of it,
And I am
Sickened by it.

Because until more of us
Act,
More of us will suffer.

But we sit,
Paralyzed by a fear,
Because we know
This girl has no
Protection.

And we know
That hurting her
Is
Viewed as
"Understandable,
Given the circumstances."

But, ladies,
I mean it.
I don't understand this.

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Love, CP

If we are raised
To hate a thing
That exists in us -
That we cannot change -
No matter what...

What does that do?

What does that do to our souls?
What does that do to our minds?
What does that do to our hearts?
What does that do to everything
That makes us us?

What if, instead
We are raised
To love this thing
That exists in us -
To learn to work with it
And learn, too,
All of the ways it makes us
Unique.

What if, instead
Of hating ourselves
And raging against
This part of our being -
We stopped
For just a moment...
For as long as we could stand it...
And just waited
To see
What would happen
Next?

What if, instead
Of resenting
Our very identities
We celebrated?
We passed along pride
Forged out of necessity?
Found not because we are
Arrogant,
But because we needed it
To survive?

(One.)
Count the seconds
(Two.  Three.)
With me - believe
(Four.  Five.)
For these five seconds
You are something.
You are everything.

Because when you love you
You love me.  Maybe you even
Love CP.
Because by loving you, you are loving
That little girl, and that baby boy,
Who can grow up
Differently, knowing
Different doesn't have to
Mean alone.

It means community.
It means beauty.
It means specificity.
It means belonging.
It means similarities
In stories,
In spasticities,
In our dignities.

We
Deserve
To find the truth
Buried under
All the lies.
We deserve
To love everything
That makes us us
To realize
We don't have to remake
Ourselves
To fit the image of who we
Are not.

Breathe deep
Speak.

We are not
Secrets to keep.

Monday, December 7, 2015

Nina

You and I
We are two of the
Same.

To me,
You're not
Different
Or awkward or strange.

It's uncanny
Everything I can see
Because looking at you
I see so much of me.

It's in your smile.
It's in your gait.
It's in your wish
To fit someplace.

You are so unique
And so wonderfully made
I wish you could see it.
I wish all else would fade.

You are one of my kind
Tense muscles and all
Be yourself with pride
Keep your head up.
Stand tall.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Contradiction in Terms

Being disabled means
Connection
To community.
It is part of my identity.
It is part of what makes me
Me.
Being disabled means
Reaching out to tell others
That we are not alone.
It means listening to each other,
Being disabled means
Having to fight,
It means being an advocate.
It means not backing down.
It means being strong
When being disabled
Also means
Inherently
Being more vulnerable.
We must be both.
We have no choice.
Be connected.
Be you.
Reach out.
Listen.
Fight.
Advocate.
Do not back down.
Be strong
While you are also vulnerable.
A contradiction in terms,
And also a truth...
Also my truth,
And how I live
As a disabled woman.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Shifting Gears

Wheels are turning

Both in my head and 

On the ground

Because that is how I move -

 I am not wheelchair bound.

Monday, November 16, 2015

Back to a Love

It has been so long
Since I have cared -
Since I have dared -
To let my fingers
Do the speaking.
It is so easy
To let time pass
And think, alas,
This love is gone.
So, honey,
Let's move those
Poems somewhere else
Somewhere that's lacking
All the whistles and bells.
But moving the love
Doesn't make it unlovely.
Relocation doesn't
Remotely remove me
From my devotion to letters
To words and to poetry.
I need it like I need
So many great things.
So, let's start again
Let's see what this night brings.