"Now I realize the reality people of my ethnicity and many others face every day.
Viewing entries tagged
poetry
"Shouldn't we be worried?"
"How far our hearts could go to touch others?"
"My heart brought me here and it will heal you."
"Three months you’ve been inside me, warm and safe, like anyone should be at home"
Wrathful bacteria
Invade the body of the host,
A plight of various ailments ensue, prompting
Overdoses and poison of the remedies. Putative – false.
My fingers brush the brow of another. Wipe the sweat, the pained gasps for
Air.
Respire! Hear the triumph of war – the ominous silence within, the sound of silence.
The orchestra still breathes, but the timpanis have stopped, disabled. Cut off – finé.
The concertmaster plays his solo, anxious, panicked, hurried. And then,
The inevitable fumble of the fingers as the bow slips and falls with a clatter
To the stage, and the conductor casts away his baton. The
Audience draws its collective final breath and the exhalation is slow
As the ensemble drifts into its
Peaceful slumber
Today I give myself up to Humanity.
I offer my life, my entire existence - for the purpose of aiding other lives.
So that the strong remain strong and the weak and small find shelter under my wings.
I resign myself to being a humble supporting character in a play,
an architect of a prestigious town, even the combat medic on the field of
War.
Quiet, silent, and unnoticed. Enabling others to achieve their dreams.
I give myself so that others can fight their battles
While I heal them. The war is long, injuries will accrue.
But I promise myself to live for them.
To provide my support: mental, physical, spiritual.
So long as I “first do no harm.”
Today I surrender my energy, life and soul
To the healthier future generation of tomorrow.
For when there exists peace and my role considered decrepit and useless
Only then is my mission accomplished
And I may rest at last.
Radiant mother, bespeckled with sweat
Will vaginally deliver, barring no threat
“Through my blood proudly come to your start
I’ll always love you, till death do us part”
One hour pushing, doctors mention
C section
Two hours of pushing, doctors threaten
C section
C section
Three hours. Mamma has strength. Baby is fine.
C section
C section
C section
Risk for infection demands dissection
“Time is what we need”, nurse disagrees
Mom cries, “my body is not my own”
Doctor’s decisions aren’t crafted to please
Of course.
She was trained to say no.
Avoid death and lawsuits; a quid pro quo.
Meds, curtain, disconnect mind from torso.
Surgeons stained satin, splatter bleached floor
Uterus outside chest, refugee in a war
of knives and sutures. Baby’s once home
bloody, battered, bandaged. Glory dethroned.
Same moment
Frozen in time, beautifully grotesque
Mother holds baby girl close to her chest
Tired baby sleeps on tired moms warm breast
Father, tear stained cheeks sing ineffable bliss
Heart full, gives his little angel a kiss
Radiant mother, bespeckled with sweat
Has delivered despite some grave threat
“Through my blood you’ve proudly come to your start
And I will love you, till death do us part
Cesarean sections in the United States have risen to 50 percent in the past two decades. We continue to have the highest risk of maternal and neonatal mortality in developed countries.
Osterman, Michelle, and Joyce Martin. "Trends in Low-risk Cesarean Delivery in the United States, 1990–2013." National Vital Statistics Reports 63, no. 6 (November 5, 2014): 1-16. Accessed October 23, 2016. http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/nvsr/nvsr63/nvsr63_06.pdf.
I was created, framed and pristine.
A trophy of cells, of carbon and stardust of perfect geometry. The perfect shell and automaton.
Machinery, creaking aluminum cogs and wheels, gears that whirl
in unison – Man.
Sinew and elastic rubber bands, our extensions flushed.
A body of artifice, of false truths and illusory fog.
I learned to be made of actual steel,
for skin and muscles, even bone, decay. Cold to
touch, reflective, impenetrable.
But
You melted my soul, freed my newfound beating heart, the sacred flame
burned away the arm and leg He gave me, leaving my
Humanity to escape from its temporary prison.
Love and kindness, hatred and despair, creativity and inspiration. I felt it all – liberated.
The essence of human life beyond the steel.
I bared my ribs, titanium white and color burst forth from the prism.
Showering down in a pitter-patter of eternal rain drops that left
my body corroded in the scrap heap.
I was sculpted by Him in His image. I am free and omniscient.
Yet why am I broken?
The raging desert ravages the lost
Refugee, immigrant, exilee... tread on
Fathers, brothers, sisters, lovers what cost
Your children take to escape death at dawn
Week 3
The raging sunbeam ravages the boy
Elements relentless, inflict their strife
King Fear reigns, “Water? Gangs? You I’ll destroy.”
Heat exhaustion, pain, pleading God for his life
Week 4
Raging gangs ravage the calico crew
Bloody, battered, bandage Nameless wounds
Robbed, raped, resigned- no one is good nor true
wonder if their death waits in Nameless tombs
Week 5
The raging thirst ravages rambling bones
Terrible thirst, child saints stumble along
Sinking slowly to deep abyss, unknowns
Dehydration.. hallucination.. Mom?
Week 6
A raging illness ravages two dears
Faceless boys in the faceless group collapse
“Leave us to die”, too dry for bitter tears
Nameless dying carried on Nameless backs
Week 7
“America the free we see!” they cry
Quiet white sky rages Nameless behind
Yesterday the two were left to die
Look left. Patrol. Refugees are confined.
1 year
Raging guards ravage the despised detained
Isolated, cold, deplorable blocks
“Apply for asylum? In hell remain
‘America the free we see!’ now mocks”
1 year- alternate ending
The raging love ravages the home
Orphan boys lawlessly find some peace
Raging love, for lawlessness, atone
“Rest now.” Eyes closed. See Nameless boys deceased.
*Poem inspired by true events. The friend who inspired this poem lived out the alternate ending, but far too many live out the first.
What if I told you I was a citizen?
A citizen of a universe
A universe like no other
No other place could match it
Match its harmony and freedom
Freedom of speech, sexual orientation and status
Status of being HIV positive or negative,
Black or white, gay, straight or bisexual
Male, female or transgender
What if I told you how life changing it was
It was a hub of information, truth and dreams
Dreams of reaching 90-90-90 goals
Goals where we want to end HIV/AIDS as a pandemic by 2030
2030 – 2016 equals 14 years of dedication
Dedication to advocacy, activism, relentless volunteerism, access
Access to reproductive health commodities, to medication
What if I told you that I was in a room full of people?
People whose passion for fighting this war against HIV/AIDS is unmatched
We matched, yes we did, screaming ‘Sex work is work’
F Word
Proclaiming ‘Treat All’
H Word
Everybody is got a right to be who they are
And yes we said everybody who walks through those doors is entitled to treatment!
I mean all we do is debase each other
I see all we do is discriminate against each other
I’m whisper ‘NO NO NO, lets love each other’
To my colleague, sharing these chairs with one another
On stage Elton John preaching ‘Let’s come together’
Our Benoni girl pleading ‘let’s not have another’
Coz we already had the other
Twice, SA host International AIDS conference
What if I told you I’m still a citizen of that universe?
And that I am of the generation
That will end HIV/AIDS
Good philosophers must be friends you see, as they love the same things in their heart.
Overcome by amazement and curiosity, it’s hard to know just where to start.
They want to know how, and what and why on the most general possible scale.
But any answer they hear, they’re likely to sneer, and try really hard to derail.
You have to be careful from what thoughts you begin, as they often show where you’ll end up.
Whether you point up or down, make sure your argument’s sound, and don’t mix your word meanings up.
Start from what’s obviously true, like one plus one equals two, then go where no one can follow.
If you need turtles big and round, all the way down, your ideas will sound bloated and hollow.
Epicycle on epicycle, please don’t act all like you’ll, never say anything ad hoc.
Try as you might, if you just want to sound right, do us a favor—just stop!
Now not just any thinkers become friends, but good thinkers make amends, when they acknowledge mutually.
That this world is a puzzle, it will bamboozle and fuzzle, with confounding absurdity.
Your assumptions and mine, happens all the time, lack internal consistency.
But…I’ve really enjoyed this, and I hope you have too, maybe on that at least we agree.
Are we angels or apes, oh…let’s decide later…
But whichever, I’m glad you’re one with me.