Upon Arrival

Money, Power, Cement--
owners of Front Street
huddle together, pavement
and traffic lights under siege
old men nest like rodents on
banks below

Imperial, her majesty
Royal, in Trust
In whose trust?
financial interbreeding, fine dining
fancy mirrors, access
to capital gains. Scotia
spurns credit for sleeping
doormen in bags, subzero

Power on Front Street
is Progress, brick by brick
Home for old men, dreaming
a space,
head disjointed, no
Money to rest--

Should history record the
nightmare, ill-delusion. Seclusion
Power molded in sandstone
Red light, Green Night
shrieking alarm

Front streets ain't only
on Front Street
They in welfare offices
on subway benches and living
room couches
caseworkers and passersby smell
the stench,
have grown accustomed to the
indifference,
the unholy Divide
between ivory and calico

Photograph of My Mother as a Young Woman

Age-old scented paper
glaring
eyes piercing souls in the story
Behind the eyes are shadows
of generations--
maids, butlers, seamstresses
Big mamas nursing babies

Callow, slim, angled neckline
hold steady
"that's the nose i got!"
chiseled to suits the senses
Frozen truth in black and white

Hardened, broken, splintered
lips
a photograph of my mother
untold stories laid to rest
Silently spoken, haunting

Sparsely-cut black hairdo
askew to jawline
cheekbone
Frilly top shifting memory--
mother's mother
six Sundays ago

Healing After Heartache

During the past year, i have had four friends / family members who have had suffered heartbreak. The culprit? Men who just do not give a damn. I, however, have a strong sense of justice in words because the language we speak can be very powerful; words carry more weight than anything we can do to "fight back". I have always looked to words as a blueprint for healing. I suggested reading and writing to those hurting. Some prefer music and fine wine.

If i could create a language for healing after heartache, it would transpose a voice of strength, integrity and good humour. It would unveil the vein of truth that pumps a lifeline of emotion to that shielded organ we call "heart". It would clarify for us what we really feel, want and don't give a shit about. It would convey the will to rise above and beyond human folly and flaw--that which make us, at once, both human and monster. It would sound like...

It's okay, i get it. I like the absence; it's a nice dose of reality. Reality beats me into becoming a woman. A strong woman; a woman who understands what it really feels like to be low and out, but who is also able to learn, grow and live freely.

The way i "do things" is:

I care for people; i am sympathetic towards others and i feel other people's pain. I wear my heart on my sleeve, not because i want to, but because i am real. I am a real person. I am nobody's fool; i am witty. I am kind. I have a lot going for me. If you are real i can deal with you. What do i value the most? Honesty.

I am glad that i have made you a better person (assuming you no longer burn rice and you take your health seriously). You have made me a better person as well; in so many ways, i am wiser and stronger. My family means the world to me. My family is my world. I can be your friend. The challenge is yours to take.

Reflections

The most benign gift we have is the gift of love. It is an emotion that breathes life into our soul. We are nothing without it. Each day, my daughter reminds me of the importance of love. She cuddles up to me, like any child would, when she feels tired, sad, disappointed or frustrated. If i do not place my arms around her and pull her real close to my bosom, she takes my hands and try to make them hug her, protect her, calm her, love her. We have "Bammy" moments when we kiss each other slowly on both cheeks, then, "faster". We bond through laughter and mutual love exchange.

I make these moments a daily ritual, a routine we share. At times, in my own deep thoughts, i reflect on this single small emotion. I am inspired by its greatness. I think about the coldness and hardness of the winter months; constantly, it reminds me of the coldness and hardness of the world. I ask myself, what is it that makes us survive? Because, really, we are not meant to survive. I could die if i should stumble and fall on the ice when nobody is looking. The answer came quickly. It is the relationship we maintain with others; it is the love we share with each other that keeps us breathing everyday, expecting nothing in return. The greatness of love is in its capacity to heal, nourish, nurture and sustain us.

I am profoundly grateful to have been blessed so graciously with the gift of love. And i am thankful that i am able to "give it" freely and abundantly to the people in my world. It is a spiritual booster to know that we are loved. An unadulterated flicker of hope, joy and peace that keeps us burning brightly long after initial encounters have subsided. I love you.

Ride With Me

Ride with me on "the midnight train"
my love, smite the wicked rain
that soils my silent body
claiming the shame
my eyes have feelings too

Like the Sable Queen, shipwrecked, lost
left to die, frost
shrivels the thin layered darkness
and quietly tames the screeching roar
of my heart against yours

Ride "the midnight train" with me
my love, unmelt the key
Won't you smite that wicked rain?
Take my hand and walk away
wash the silence that makes me sway.

Love. Listen up!

It's the danger of it all
love is risky business
you carry the silent anger
the pain of wanting to retreat
you stop for a moment to think,
and you ache
you stop for a moment and you feel like
you slipping
like you slipping into something
like you falling and can't stop falling.
It's the danger of it all
love is risky business.
Even when you take a bow
and the curtains fall, you
still falling
you live in the reflections
of broken glass
you walk in the shadow of
you hope, and you pray, yes
you pray
you sing yourself a reason to keep
but you keep falling
the pit that you falling into
has no bottom
just darkness
and echoes of you loneliness.
It's risky business i would say
if you can't stop yourself from falling
you falling and wondering why
you can't stop,--
a woman heart tender
when her mind strong, yet
you keep falling like leaf
on autumn day
you not certain about destination
all this time you traveling
you not sure where you going, but
you going
you going because you falling
and although you know it's risky
business
you still falling
like snow before winter come 'round.
When you falling be sure
someone, a shadow in the pit, even
there to catch you
it better when you don't fall
by yourself
because
love is risky business
when you falling and don't know
that is falling you falling.
Long as you grown and have sense
you will know
is just that you may not know the danger
because you falling and all the time thinking
that is just falling you falling
you slipping too, yes!
you sliding and slipping, losing grip
and you might just grab something
and still feel like you falling
ain't nothing gonna stop you from falling
once you falling
is the pleasure and pain of falling
that keep you going
you high and low in one sweep
ain't nothing gonna help you, now
now that you been falling
and all the while not knowing that
you falling
it's a dangerous
damn dangerous
risky business