We are here

We are here in this place of hate and fear

We are here in this place where

None of us can remain silent

We are here in this place where

We all shout out that:

“You are wrong

Children belong with their parents

Your fear and your hate-

you can keep all

to yourself.

We want no part in your political games

That

Destroys families and

That

Traumatizes us all

Leaving us

Broken and shattered

Like your

Political soul that

Survives on

Fear and hate”

We are here in this place

Where your

Fear and hate

Will

Not

Win

I liked, I loved

I liked a man, he didn’t like me back

I loved a man, he didn’t love me back

I liked myself, I liked myself back

It took a while but

I love me, and I love myself back

I thought I was broken

But

Love and like never mean broken

They mean capable of

Love and like again and again

Until it fits

Vintage Work Project

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be adding poetry to this site that I wrote before I was brave enough to call myself a poet. Some poems may even come with basic doodles and illustrations. It has taken me a while to find my poet voice but it has been an overall fun experience. I like looking back to see how my work has evolve. This poem seemed like a fitting introduction to this project:

The vines of life

always cross

but never do they seem

to get lost

one way and

then the other

never stopping

or losing their direction

but always seeking,

going

until

they

find

their place