She is a brilliant Writer on Medium and is willing to take the journey along with me at A Cornered Gurlvia Medium. For the next two weeks, her first contribution to the publication,To Conclude, will be featured here. Everything about this work makes me love the authenticity of writing poetry, of releasing, of capturing love and all its counterparts in a most precise way. Smita does that and ends the poem solidly too.
Please encourage her heart, beautiful people.
Nothing ever ends well.
The sense of dread
you sometimes get
is all too real. Don’t brush it off.
Deals will be broken.
Your heart too.
What you thought would never
end on a bad note becomes a pool of dried blood,
a flood on the floor
that leaves a stain
with jagged edges that will scrape
at your heels and pinch your toes
so hard to make your eyes smart.
Nothing ever ends well. Don’t get fooled by promises
made and sealed
with a kiss.
You let the friend go
when you took on the lover
and if it turns with the weather
you will always and forever
need a thick sweater
to keep out the cold.
Remember, nothing ever ends well. It’s a myth made by minds
that want to go into enchanted forests
eat wild berries that stain the tongue
and swing widely from rungs
to fall into waiting arms
that won’t be there.
The leaves will crunch and crackle
under your weight
as your spine breaks
and you may never walk again.
The spirit may remake itself, sure.
But that’s the subject of another poem.
Tonight, just remember
nothing, when it ends, ends well.
I have this thing for pregnant bellies. I love them! For as long as I can remember, I have been drawn to the wonder of a woman’s belly — how it can be home to a miracle growing inside. Currently, at work, there are two co-workers who are pregnant. Both are carrying boys. I have an army of boys in my family, little soldiers who get into mischief and carve out places in this world with their seeking fingers. I connect with children, even while in their mother’s womb, we bond.
A few weeks back, my co-worker (the one who is due in May) was walking up the hallway toward our front desk and I was heading back from the radiologists’ reading department and we sort of met in the middle. I calmly asked, “May I?” as I pointed to her belly and she smiled as bright as anyone could and almost shouted, “Sure!” I placed my right hand just above her navel and began talking to her little one, granting him blessings straight from my heart. I thanked her and shortly after when we were both settled back into the groove of our positions, she called me to let me know that her little one started to kick as soon as she walked away.
I laughed, then smiled. At the end of my shift, I welcomed a few tears. The beauty of something as monumental as bringing another human being into this world hit me without my knowledge. I said softly to myself, “I wonder if they know that history is beginning in their bellies — they’re carrying the world.” I think of how things would have been had I brought my own little one into this world — if I ever could and a variety of emotions hit me at once, from every angle. I used to think that I was useless, that if I was not giving this world a part of me, that I did not matter. I used to believe that without a child of my own, I was not fit to be called “woman.”
Now, when I see this co-worker, she smiles. I ask her, “How’s the little one?” and she always says, “He’s busy growing. He’s good.” Her belly is shifting from a basketball to a combination of a football and beach-ball. She’s all belly, at a quick glance, nothing else seems to be shifting.
My other co-worker has baby written all over her. The sweet boy growing inside of her is making his presence known. It seems as though the little one is saying, “Get ready, world! I am going to be nothing you expected, but something that you need!” I have not given her belly a talking to, not yet, but I will — if allowed. I look at my own belly, wondering if it is fit to grow a miracle like most women — if it can create change. And, I think it can, it is the completing part of it all that I am told would be problematic. I want to reach out and call to the little soothsayer, sage, or savior nearing what will be my co-worker’s last trimester. I want to tell him to be all that he can be and so much more.
I watch her, my co-worker (her due date is sometime in April), she races about our work-place on a mission. It is hard to catch her in slow motion. She has so much energy and I cannot help but feel like instead of exhaustion and swollen feet and frequent bathroom breaks and odd tastes in food, her little one is far more mature and is simply settled in the womb until he is called away. I have never seen someone still as active for ten straight hours at six months pregnant before. She is nonstop. I feel as though her little boy is saving the best for his debut. He will be a reckoning. He will be a force.
We better get ready.
Both of these women are doing something I have chosen not to, that I, in the grand scheme of things, cannot. To say that I am moved each day that I get a chance to see them would be an understatement. I have an incredible amount of respect for them. After all, they are carrying their own little worlds inside. Each of them preparing for motherhood at their own pace.
Each of them preparing to share with all of us, the gift of life.
Because I have made a HUGE move and I want to share that here as well. My publication A Cornered Gurl via Medium has been the published work of myself, any Writer who has collaborated with me, and a number of challenge posts. Today, I decided to open the pub up to all Writers on Medium. Here is the official announcement:
“I have been toying with the idea of opening up A Cornered Gurl to Writers here on Medium. And, I think the timing of toying with it any longer has reached its end. I would like to welcome you — those of you interested in being a Writer for A Cornered Gurl to come along on this journey with me. There’s room. We will be comfortable. Creativity will run rampant here as well as all of us gaining the chance to learn from one another.
What is the theme?
A Cornered Gurl: Where Writers Break Out of the Box
What will I publish?
•Heartwork (to include fiction, non-fiction, & poetry) •Tales of the South •Micropoetry •Challenges
When will I publish?
Mondays and Fridays by 7:00 pm, US EST.
Every three months, there will be a focus on the Young Writers of Medium, and on Mondays and Fridays during that month, ACG will publish the work of Writers from the ages of 15–25. I do not know where we will be going, but I do feel like traveling with some creative company is best.
How do you become a Writer? Email me at email@example.com using “Please Add Me” as the subject line or respond to this letter by stating the same (“Please Add Me”) and it shall be done. Since I am a fan of variety and quality over quantity, I will publish a total of two pieces from the same Writer on Monday and Friday (meaning, a Writer can have one piece published on Monday and a new piece published on Friday.)
•Tomorrow, Sunday, January 6, 2019, will be the first challenge post and will kick off the opportunity to add new Writers and publish the content from the challenge announcement on Monday, January 7, 2019, and Friday, January 11, 2019.
Important Notice: I will not publish content disrespectful in nature to anyone’s race, sexual orientation, religious beliefs, social and/or financial economic status, or anything else I regard as insensitive rhetoric/discourse. This is our community. Grow with me in 2019 and beyond.
It pains me that I am here before you now, sharing yet another piece by a great, solid, empowering Writer by the name of James Finn via Medium. Not only is this wonderful man an advocate for the LGBTQ community, but he also lives and breathes the work that he shares–this is his life. It has become mine too. What I am going to share with you is appalling, graphic in nature, and displays that this world is still hellbent on hate yet calling it God’s love. How? How can one fix one’s mouth and refer to any acts of hate, fear-mongering, and total disdain for the differences in others God’s love?
I will remind you, it is not.
His post, Conversations with a Homophobe is catching fire via Medium (as it should), and it details his conversation with a follower on Twitter who is Catholic and from what I can ascertain, firmly believes that heinous acts against those of the LGBTQ community are well-warranted and righteous performances of what God expects. According to him, we are to be weeded from the garden, cast out, dwindled down in lesser numbers, and all with God’s approval from the Catholic church. I will be the first to tell you of my upbringing– a Southern (based on region) Baptist from a family that was and is devout in Christianity. For thirty years, I trapped myself, kept myself in the closet, knowing full well of who I was well before I knew the term, the label, the explanation of how God crafted me to be. Yes, GOD made me, so he knew who I was before I became this flower of a person, this person who I love so much more now knowing that I am finally free in my own skin.
Being gay, a lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, queer, etc is STILL BEING HUMAN. Where is humanity? Reading Jim’s article, it goes on to explain the reason for his post on Twitter was to bring attention to that of a young man who had been hacked, sliced & diced with machetes because he is gay and followers of the Roman Catholicism branch of faith took it upon themselves to make an example of this young man. He will probably die.
“The young man was attacked because people found out he’s gay. He says they screamed at him about God and sin as they butchered him. They’re all faithful Catholics. They believe what their Church teaches about gay men being evil and depraved. They acted on that belief.”
From the Catholic Catechism:
“Homosexual persons are called to chastity. By the virtues of self-mastery, they can and should gradually and resolutely approach Christian perfection.”
Hmm. “Christian perfection.” No one is perfect, but God. We will always be flawed, and if we attempt any such advancements toward perfectionism, something we cannot obtain, we will be further reminded of our humanness–of our flaws. I love my faith. I love being a follower of Christ. I love God. What I do not stand for, what I do not love, is hatred toward any human being made by the hands of God. I do not care about the source, the whys, the hows, the whats–I do not stand for it. If you are a child of God, if you call yourself a follower of Christ, in any branch of the religious world, you are to love others as you love yourself and you are to do so according to the word of God.
GOD IS LOVE.
Please… Please stop shoving your hatred into God’s mouth. He doesn’t speak hate. He never has. He never will. Jim has asked that his article Conversations with a Homophobebe shared to all social media outlets. Facebook has deleted his posts. Twitter has done the same. Why? Because he is speaking against a major religious figurehead and for some reason, around the globe, but especially in the US, we are not to point fingers at those who believe they are on some sort of pious pedestal. I don’t mind pointing fingers, especially if you are wrong. Especially if it hurts people. And most especially, if it kills them. I am not on Facebook. I do not have Twitter. Soon, I will no longer have Instagram. Social media is not my bag.
I am blessed that I have a mother who was fighting for me without my knowledge when family members were sharing their thoughts of who I was or who they thought I was going to be. I am blessed to have a mother who still fights for me. Brothers who have all stated that they are waiting for anyone to fix their mouths and say something against me that is not of their approval. Friends who still stand by my side. Coming out a few months ago was hard to do, but I am more than happy that I did it. As a reminder, you can be religious, faithful, and devout–you can be all of this and not spout hate to those who are in some way, different than you. God is love. Anything else is not of God.
*As you welcome a new year, I hope each of you is able to just sit and be and reflect on what 2018 brought your way, how you handled it, and what you will do in 2019 if faced with such things once again. I wish you peace, love, a hope-filled space, and tons of creativity to get you through the new year. Peace and blessings.