“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.” Winston Churchill

again

gather them up
from all the places
they’ve gone

and pull them back
from yesterday
stuffed in my pocket

carry them around
heart aching full
with love unspoken

come home
come home

There is something more inside of me
than i know what to do with.

Its stirring and powerful.

I wont be afraid, this time.

It is going to break your heart

"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

Warm Sand

When I was little there was nothing better than to get wet in the cold ocean and then roll in the hot white sand. I am sure I was a sand-spraying menace to my sister and her cool friend that lived up the lane. I remember my mom asking if I wanted to wash off before lunch. I never quite understood why, but now when I think about it, I remember the crunch between my teeth that shouldn’t have been there.

We used to use gas and a rag to get the tar off our feet from the “oil flatforms” a couple miles out to sea. People think that is strange when I tell them that, but it was just what was to me.

There is a space we create within these words that’s safe. Sometimes someone writes something that feels, no matter the subject, like home. That is probably stepping over some lines or boundaries, but I’ve never been very good at those. I’ve always found myself to be too much, untempered and broken. I’ve never got the knack of this life or the proper flow within it. Maybe one day I will, but as of now, I don’t care that much. All I know is that those momentary safe spaces that are created by words, electricity and recognition, make me feel human and alive.

No, sorry, I can’t explain it more or better. This language fails me even though it’s the only one I know.

I’d like some cold water and hot sand to roll in. Maybe, there, I’d feel safe again. Maybe within that warm blanket, home wouldn’t feel so fleeting.

We Did.

"On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics.

We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness...

For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.

For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.

For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn.

Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction. ...

As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our Founding Fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake. And so to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint..."

We Did

Hurry

I remember my father’s yellow truck and how I would race to meet him at the front door before he left at dawn. I remember missing him a few times and hanging on the screen door that tasted like my tears.
I remember the pink nightgown that I wore until I just didn’t fit into it anymore. I remember how silky it was and how I felt grown up.
I remember wishing for a time when people really listened to me, my words, my meanings. Sometimes, I still wish.

I’m not sure where I’m supposed to be anymore, as I’ve stretched myself too thin. I’ve been hiding since Fall. I don’t know when dawn is coming anymore.

I remember my sister and I snuck out one night on a full moon. The owl was in his tree and hooted at us as we ran to the beach to dance on the high tide sand. I remember it feeling like a beautiful dream and now I wonder if it was.

I see the magical moments, the Universe’s intake of fresh air. I feel the sparkle, but I don’t know how to show you. I don’t know how to place the words so delicately. But, if I did, you could use them as step stones and see what I see. Hurry.

A week ago I broke my ankle and it's forced me to stop. I've been writing and reading and none of it here. I'll bring some to share soon, I promise.

id make tea and knit (not that i know how)
if i had a cottage
in the woods

i'd be calm and watch the moon
and light candles
and make things with scraps of fabric
i forgot i had

there would be a fireplace
and drying herbs and jars
of jam on shelves that i'd be
proud of

there would be neighbors
and paper whites
and warm wooden floor
worn smooth with wear

I want to talk about tea
and sweaters
and safe things
and snow
you

I have not laughed this hard in a long time.

Blorpedo

Just Enough

There are things I need to say, but I am not sure where to start. How about a list? No? Too bad.

Roller Derby is so hard that I want to quit and so good for me that I love it. I love being challenged (and hate it). I am proud of myself and repeatedly embarrassed by my clumsy self. It’s more humbling and empowering than anything else I’ve ever done.

I think my two year old is insane, really.

I think my seven year old is really 14. She can be such a bitch sometimes. I wonder where she gets it. Having children is like having an evil mirror that just shows you your flaws reflected in the most precious things to you, your children.

Work is hard lately, busy and I am having a hard time focusing. I find myself just sitting and staring. It’s not productive.

Fuck, it’s cold.

I am done Christmas shopping. It’s a weak Christmas, but they all are. We squeak by, somehow. I trust that we will have enough and we do, just enough.

Mute


chapped hands, hearts
leaving it out there
every time
mute

secrets eat
the soul of what we make
within itself

and I, charming
slither through days
smiling
mute

always more
underneath unspoken
no one wants
it all

Mia

From November08

Thanks giving

I’ve been wondering where I am, where I’ve been lately and I’ve been here. I’m quiet lately, inside and out. I’m calm. I’m reading and taking in the heartache and joy.

There is never quite enough money these days, but every holiday is like that. Just barely making due and I've got more than enough. I’ve got more than enough.

My job is stable and I even got a raise this year. It almost makes me feel guilty with people losing their jobs left and right. Everyone needs groceries and that’s what I sell. My family is healthy besides the occasional cold or filling. We are good.

I am so lucky to be me, today, with my family, friends and my life.

I am so thankful for roller derby teaching me that I really can kick ass and take names. It’s making me fit and confident. I am learning how to make friends with women I would have never made friends with in the past. I am learning to be just myself and how that is more than enough (maybe even sort of pretty ok thing to be).

Thank you, all of you.

It's a New Day!

Will.I.Am - New Music - More Music Videos

We will rise.

There are protesters in the streets demanding equality. We've seen this before, well, not me but I saw it in school. Equal rights, they taught us, is everyone's right. No matter your religion or race, your size or disability, no matter your gender; you are guaranteed equal rights. But, they forgot to tell me that I don't have the right to love my loves. I don't have the right to join legally whom I chose. I thought we were free. I thought we had the right to pursue happiness.
Not yet, but we will. Will you tell my children why their grandmothers cannot marry? Will you tell them why their grandmother's love is less sacred, less legal, less important than people who love the opposite sex? Will you tell them why, if their grandmother gets sick, why I would have to make choices for her and not her partner, her love? Will you explain to my children and myself why equal is not equal for all? Will you explain to them why in Arkansas same sex partner cannot adopt children or foster them? Will you explain to me why you wouldn't give children to people who want them? Can you?
No?
It's not OK. We will rise to acceptance and understanding love through love.













Still I Rise
 

 
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou