May 26
poem challenge: Uvalde

Why?

I would place my hand on your beating heart and ask you why. 
Force you to look into my eyes and ask you why. 
Stroke your grandmother's hair and ask her why.
Pick the lock at the sporting shop and ask him why. 
Read your Facebook posts and wonder why. 
Chase after your car and scream out why. 
Go through every classroom and whisper why. 
I would let you see me cry if only to answer why. 
But in your death, you committed the greatest crime of all. 
No explanation. 
Not a single word. 
You just took your gun 
and your hate 
and your pain 
and left. 

In response to the challenge, Uvalde
 
May 21

Doubting

One of my friends said the n-word yesterday. 
Or, at least, I think she did. 

It just flew out of her mouth. 
Like a baby bird, 
or a flyaway hair, 
pulled out of place. 

I sat so still. 
Too frozen, 
for anyone, 
to even notice me. 

Just another stray snowflake 
in a deluge of cold.

I wished her a happy Asian Pacific Islander Desi American Heritage Month, 
because maybe she didn’t say it. 

But maybe she did. 

 
May 17

Royalty High

We’re running around the city, the lights flash blue and yellow and green and red. 
We stumble into a music store, the old type, with records everywhere. 
You put on The King. 
We twirl through the aisles, belting the lyrics.
We run out into the street. 
Skipping down the avenues. 
I’m in a green dress. 
I wanna bottle this feeling. 
This sweaty, delirious, pitter patter of my heart feeling 
This technicolor, fizzy champagne feeling 
I wanna be 
The king of your heart. 
Wear your love like a crown. 
Adorn myself with those ruby red kisses of yours. 


Inspired by the song "The King" by Sarah Kinsley 
 
May 09

Wasting All My Data On Our Late Night Calls

Apr 29

In the late spring light,

Apr 26

B.B. & Billie: A Beautiful Thing

I was listening to, or rather my dad was playing "The Thrill is Gone" by B.B. King. Normally, I would’ve complained but today B.B’s music moved me. He sings about losing the thrill of something you once loved. I’m guessing he meant it romantically, a love that gradually loses its spark over time until it is nothing but ash. But I like to think of it more generally. Losing the passion for something you once held dear. Getting your dream job and eventually dragging yourself to the office. Losing interest in an activity or art form that used to consume every waking hour. I think Billie Eilish says it best in her song "Getting Older:" “Things I once enjoyed/Just keep me employed now/Things I’m longing for/Someday, I’ll be bored of.” Then it struck me how these two completely different artists, with contrasting genres and personalities, and totally different fans, are saying the exact same thing.
Apr 03

Mommy

Mommy 
Where did you go? 
Come back to me. 
My little mouth can’t feed itself. 

Mommy 
I miss you 
I need you here with me. 
My little tears won’t dry themselves. 

Mommy 
I hate you 
You’re never there for me.
My little heart can’t fix itself. 

Mommy 
I love you 
I want you here with me.
But I’m not 
so little 
anymore. 


 
Apr 03

The Man on the Moon is Melting

Mar 26

Let us open our pale eyes to the sun

The whole world readies itself in anticipation of beautiful things. 

The sky sends down its sunny beams of joy 
Revealing to us a green oasis
Finally released from winter's icy grasp. 

The appointment might be late, 
But it's finally here. 

After waiting in long lines of snow and slush, 
And enduring gray sky after gray sky, 

We experience the ultimate renewal 

We experience spring.  

*Written during Writing With Reuben and Alex, "The Luck of Longer Days," March 2022.






 
Mar 12
fiction challenge: Script

Shadows Of Love

*This is definately more than 30 lines, oops* 

                                                                                               Act II Scene 3 

Magdelena is sitting on stage left, and John is on the opposite side. She’s hunched over at the dining table while he is pacing near the living room. His chair lies on its side and both their eyes are bloodshot. Magdalena’s hair is silver, curly, and hangs loose around her head. They are the only ones there. 

John (waving his hands erratically): C’mon look around. 
Magdelena: At what? At what John, what? 
John: Look at us
Magdelena: Ok, I see us. I don’t get it, what do you want me to see? 
John: Are you shitting me? C’mon Maggie. Don’t be dumb.
Magelena (in a sarcastic tone): Oh, wow I’m dumb now. First I’m blind now I’m dumb. Great, thanks for that.

Pages