The Past Stays Here

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  • Lost In Locks

    Daily writing prompt
    What activities do you lose yourself in?
    View all responses

    While after hour freedom includes hiking and ice skating, the warmth of the sun rays between the trees on my make-up free, sunscreened skin and the glide of making endless circles swishing around the ice to music pumping through arena speakers, it is the on-hour time of hair cutting that causes me to get lost in its rhythm.

    Inhaling fresh outdoor tree hugging air or crisp and cold 40 degree rink steamed breath is refreshing, yet it is actually crafting a haircut, the flow of technique, where will each strand land, and how will I frame locks around the face, are what I truly lose myself in.

    Lately I have grappled with my chosen profession as the toxins in products have increased I have debated a new career. Writing this reminds me of how I can concentrate on the cut and use mild lighteners for lifting lights before saturating with vibrant colors or remaining blonde. Continue my craft with intention. Challenge on.

  • Sticky

    Sticky

    Writing the poems
    My escape
    Deal with 
    The everyday

    You left me with
    the squeak
    of the door
    needs to be replaced

    a house now mine 
    how grateful for me
    to hold
    the responsibility
    of these three young soles 

    lucky am I 
    they want to be with me
    hold my hand rollerskating
    still
    the age of fifteen

    dinner with friends
    “mom sit with me”
    wisdom teeth out
    chuck the cash their way
    they can’t actually
    expect you to pay

    “what am I supposed to do about it”
    you say
    when the kid now 18
    misses the bus in the city
    where another was stabbed
    only two nights prior
    but hey
    they’ll be ok

  • Sun Rises at Dawn

    Sun Rises at Dawn

    Aunt, godmother, protector
    Religion aside 
    Birthday
    Day before mine

    Filled fathers shoes
    absent
    mothers sister 
    replaced 
    the presence  

    tutored math
    tennis against the wall
    coach for the softball
    I could barely throw

    pizza nights and 
    patience 
    an interest and mission,
    what’s the word we use now
    connection

    breakfast with my kids
    painted my walls
    soup on the stoop
    when the flu hit
    us all

    birthday cake
    candles we blew out together
    Virgo babies
    and that middle name
    mom gave me 
    after her sisters first
    Dawn

    patient 
    and kind to us all
    you arrive in my dreams
    guiding spirits
    warm halo
    gratitude

    “first appearance of light”
    so yeah we ride strong
  • Date delema

    Date delema

    Immediately you defined me
    Characterized my existence 
    Put me in a category
    For your sexual fantasy 

    goth, no
    emo, club kid,
    eh
    oh rocker chick
    that’s it

    how we clashed
    genres of rock
    a generation apart
    the dead,
    the grunge, the soul,
    and the funk

    false narrative 
    it wasn’t enough

    mistook the attention for love
    common mistake
    a play thing, a toy
    you, my only joy
    not

    the narrative you desire
    to tell others 
    how I suffocate 
    didn’t give space
    when we both know
    you’re the one 
    who needs to save face 

    from your family and friends
    tell them I left
    again
    when literally 
    you pushed me away in the end.
  • Failure lit

    Failure lit

    System failure
    The school the big classes
    The just let her pass
    smarter than the average
    slow reader
    big imagination
    never pays attention

    day dreaming 
    lala land
    what we didn’t know then
    wanna be
    actor director
    controlling the scene

    surviving
    escaping some label
    not the dumb blonde,
    the learning disabled

    graduate anyway
    can’t pass to 101
    the dummy class
    the college course
    a boyfriend 
    a job at the record store

    “why don’t you do hair”
    moms best words to me

    graduate high color numbers
    chemist who knew
    passionate and physical
    love my career

    years later 
    dabble
    acting classes
    cross country excursion

    summer nyc
    the train ride reading 
    the journal writing 
    apply and get in

    pass to lit 101
    hurray 
    the f final class grade of yore
    english 100 I never passed 
    yet I learned, I learned!
    journalism major 
    forever explorer


  • Blood Moon


    Sunday the tears shed
    I thought they disappeared 
    how much weight six months carried
    within the last year  

    5,360 minutes
    and that’s only the morning calls
    not to mention the texting, the vacation, dinners out, hiking and three times skating…

    my new best friend 
    dropped it hot
    quick tempered 
    cords cut 

    cutting cords
    this moon is meant for
    I hear
    place the water by the window 
    let go of what’s holding me back
    make sense of all those tears

    Ive managed not to call 
    when my stomach flutters
    and my heart clasps tight
    Your words
    empty words you once said
    of future, the home we could share
     
    couldn’t be quicker,
    How you pushed away
    made it much easier
    I smile 
    how I haven’t called out 
    to reach you, 
    ease the clarity of crazy
    you call me.
    You’re missing out.



  • Heavenly Creature 🌈

    Heavenly Creature 🌈


    Back city roads
    Right, right, left
    accident on the highway
    traffic diverted,
    again

    2020
    memory of a youth
    gone too soon
    our butterfly 
     of orange
    glow for your soul

    turn black
    as we lost 
    your vibrant 
    rainbow, my friend 

    the chaos
    around us
    ignored by our connection
    that night
    you saw me, you saw me

    dinner in the city
    the buzz of the others
    falling drunken 
    yelling loudly

    we sat quiet
    what was the chance
    side by side
    they seated us,
    circumstance

    of different generations
    spirit sisters
    activate 

    time stood still
    in my heart, my friend 
    creative outlet
    big hearted
    rebels of such
     
    shut out for the same
    self expression
    they celebrated
    years later when the 
    money rolled in
    namaste my friend, namaste

  • Resourceful

    Are those who feel guilt
    Too small to make an impact
    on resources, environment, sustainability

    Or are those of us who care keeping ourselves small 
    not using our resources to grow wealth and security

    Can we actually make an impact. Are we one person trickle down, or up. All of our actions compacted to change a society. 

    In a panic, I awake, sleepy disoriented. What time of day is it? A nap, cozy, mid day. Hum of heat pushed through vents, hot water for the shower, roof over head. 
    Yet the kid wants to shop 20 min away. Gas my dear. Doesn’t come cheap. Time equals money. Are you going to pay me. Guilt again not being the mother of his dreams.