Featured Poem of the Week

TheWayISam:

Sam is a fairly new contributor to A Cornered Gurl and she came thundering through the publication’s queue with a powerful, but a subtle-in-emotion poem about insomnia. She is making her mark on Medium and doing so tremendously. With addictive language and great line placement in her poetry, I am happy to have Sam in ACG via Medium and this week, Insomnia is the feature.

Photo byΒ Megan te BoekhorstΒ onΒ Unsplash

Primp and prep and spray
Lavender to melt the day away

Pins and needles poke me as I lay in bed
Awake.

Tortured by my thoughts
My worries consume me

My anticipation energizes me
The moment my head hits the pillow
I’m Awake.

Snoring echoes all around me
Amplified by the silence

Suffocated with exaggeration
And taunts me.

I am truly astonished by your ease in bed
When awake, you are a ball of nerves.
You are asleep mid-sentence
Fully tranquilized by contact with a pillow.

No drug or music
No distraction or sedation
Will rouse me from this Hell.
I’m Awake
.


Originally published via A Cornered Gurl on Medium.

I Mother No One

For Mothers Lost, Mothers Yet Still Mothering, and Mothers Who MotherΒ Others

The Evil Mothers|Giovanni Segantiniβ€Šβ€”β€Š1894

ItΒ is Mother’s Day and I am outside walking the dog, listening to the sounds of the closest highway, hearing them, there is nothing that I can say that I have not already said about this day. But, I will say what I can. Mothers, you have a gift. You were given the knowledge to raise and keep up with little versions of you. How tiresome that must be on a daily basis. How incredible the strength must be to last for days on end. Knowing that you would be someone that someone else would look up to is a pressure and a weight that I cannot even bear.

Mothers, I appreciate you.

As I walk the hills of my apartment complex, I envision the days that my mother and I had our outs. But, we survived and are surviving. I am grateful for the chance to say that we moved through a tumultuous time and we are rising to the top. It is 2019, and I have entered my 39th year, and I still mother no one in the actual defining terms of a motherβ€Šβ€”β€Šone who gives birth to someone. But, I did mother. I do Mother. I am mothering younger versions of me, my cousins, and others and I get to see what this life could have been, but only part-time. And that is best for me. The older I get, the more I know this to be true.

Part-time mothering of others is significantly different from Full-time mothering of yourΒ own.

Fake Balloons|Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

OnΒ this day, I wish you peace, love, light, a home-cooked meal that does not come from your hands and toil in the kitchen, and the overwhelmingly powerful gift of appreciation. You deserve it. If you are mothering the way you shouldβ€Šβ€”β€Šyou deserve it. If your children can say positively that you are their mother and they say it proudlyβ€Šβ€”β€Šyou deserve it. If you have given your all, including everything left after itβ€Šβ€”β€Šyou deserve it. If you messed up, lost track, received help, and are on your way to the betterment of both you and your childrenβ€Šβ€”β€Šyou deserve it.

I wish I could make each and every one of you smile, offer a hug, a kind word on more than just one day of this year, but here are a few…

For those of you yet still mothering, those who mother others, those who are growing from the pain of not being mothered, and all others who fall in the category of mothering and the mothered…

We are sending you a heartfelt Happy Mother’sΒ Day.


lettre d’amour

musical selection: anita baker|giving you the best that I got

lettre d’amour

fiction


β€œSave my baby!” I am shouting. I tell the doctors to save you, let me die. They will never know how I planned for your arrival, the gift of you to this world is much more than I can give it. β€œSave my baby!” I am shouting again. They hear me. There are tubes everywhere. I place my hands on my bloody stomach. I feel you. You are alive. You are kicking frantically, aware that it is time. I will die today. I will die today and this is my love letter to you.

You are the single most important thing to me in this strange world. I claimed your fingers. I already know your feet. You are perfectβ€Šβ€”β€Šmy blessing. I used to pray for your father’s presence, for him to spend time learning you as much as I have. It is up to you now. I love you more than the open sea, salty to its taste, but refreshing on a hot summer’s day. I love you more than the lying lover trying to persuade his faithful mate to take him back. I love you more than… this last breath.

Ahh…
Flat___________

The lights go out, I can’t hear the doctors. I can’t see them. I only see you. I only see youβ€Šβ€”β€Šcrying in front of shattered glass, windy trees, and the roar of the truck as it collides with us. I am dead.

You are alive.
They saved you.
You are here.

This is my love letter to you. This is my love letter to you. This is my love letter to you.

Zuri, you are my life’s greatest work.


Originally published in The Junction via Medium.

Featured Writer for May

Roy A. Ngansop

He is a recently added contributor to A Cornered Gurl via Medium and as far as I can tell, he uses his words wisely. Innovative and unique, Roy brings something to the publication that I am quite happy to see. Of African descent, he weaves a bit of his culture into his words as well and learning bits and pieces about his world is intriguing and knowledgable too. His poem, Mrs. Middle Lane struck me as incredibly sound, well-written, and a mind-bender. It is worth every second of the readers’ eyes. And now, the feature:


Mrs. Middle Lane

Somewhere between left and right,
there’s space for her.

Perhaps just a thin line of imbalance,
but that’s fine;Β 
she maintains her stand.

She’s neither black nor white.
Not that she’s confused.Β 
Wisdom indeed sits in her matter.
She wears neutrality to blend with every colour,
yet her tones never match any other’s.
She’s grey. She’s singular.

She doesn’t have your back, she doesn’t stab it.
She won’t turn you on, she won’t turn you down either.
She understands you, but doesn’t stand with you.
She won’t bring you down, she won’t raise you up.

She runs in between.
Sometimes there is only so much she can care about.
Sometimes she chooses to not choose.
She sees you on one side, your opponent on the other.
She sees where everyone is coming from.
But she would follow no one to where they’re leading.

She doesn’t take sides, she’s faithful to Middle.
She’s Mrs. Middle Lane.


Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.

The Journey Back To Wellness


ShadowCreek
Devil’s Creek and my shadow, Bakersville, NC|Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Part II: Getting Personal|Lune, 10Β Parts

so close to one month
we’ve shared me
now, she’s sharing her.

simple, welcoming
divine words
calm this fragile soul.

we discuss a plan
towards peace
what will help shape me?

Devil’s creek becomes
a safe placeβ€Šβ€”
a sweet memory.

I pull from it love
that I need
when days are so hard.

“give yourself new things,
inspire
yourself in new ways.”

went to the mountains,
breathed fresh air,
found a sense of home

and left the pieces
of my world
that’d been crushing me.

she says, “you’re solid,
a still rock,
but it’s time to move.”

I hear her, I do.
but instinct
has its claws in me.


*My therapist is teaching me how to better listen to my surroundings, especially in places of peace. I have taken a ton of pictures of late and with each passing day, in those photos, and around me, I am pulling out what I need and leaving what I do not. I still have a long road ahead of me, though.

Thank you for reading.


Part I

The Journey Back To Mental Wellness: My First Therapy Session

Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.

But, how do we stop a world of hate

When the world does not yet know how to love?

“Trump Attacks Transgender HealthΒ Care”

“Access to care is hard now. Religious β€˜liberty’ is set to make itΒ worse.”

Photo byΒ Sharon McCutcheonΒ onΒ Unsplash

“Transgender people have serious problems accessing quality health care. The Trump Administration is about to make it even harder.


Think physicians and other medical professionals honor their Hippocratic oaths and treat their patients equally and neutrally? TheΒ Center for American ProgressΒ (CAP) wants you to know that’s not trueβ€Šβ€”β€Šnot with LGBTQ people at least.

They conducted aΒ comprehensive surveyΒ in 2017 and found thatΒ 8% of gay people report being refused medical treatment because of their sexual orientation.

That’s bad enough, but a fullΒ 29 percent of transgender people said a doctor or other health care providerΒ refused to see themΒ because of their actual or perceived gender identity.Β Twenty-one percent said a doctor or other health care provider used harsh or abusive language when treating them.”


The excerpt you see above was written by Medium Writer, James Finn. I have mentioned him several times in this space as he is an advocate for the LGBTQ community and seems to get no rest in his efforts for speaking out against hatred and all common indecencies against mankind. I have sat with his article, of which, I will post the link to shortly so that you can read it in its entirety, but first–how? No, really… how can you work your heart in such a way to deny someone different from you healthcare? Or, the very resources and ways that will alleviate an illness or an ailment of any kind? Why… Why would you design a plan to pass a law that will aid physicians who hold conservative beliefs and (in my opinion) garner hate to possibly maintain the right to openly denounce Hippocratic oaths and not serve people who are LGBTQ?

I am sitting here trying to prevent myself from crying because the ache is incredibly strong. Those who base their opinions on that of a Godly source are sadly mistaken in what God wants. They do not know their Bible or they interpret their Bible entirely different from what is written. The second most greatest commandment given to believers and those willing to follow is to, “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” Matthew 22: 39. The pain of reading this article is so heavy that I at first, did not know what to say or how to respond. I still have not, but I will do so on that post with this blog entry’s link. *sighs* I try to be a source of light–of love. I try to understand all who are different from me. I try to listen, to learn, and to care.

I cannot fathom denying someone a bare minimum human act. At my job, we are under the umbrella of an astounding organization that prides itself on diversity and inclusion and being in the medical field, no one–and I can tell you for a fact, no one in our facility will deny anyone healthcare based on their sexual orientation or any other status that lawmakers feel is out of their accepted realm. We are there to provide care. We are there to give you a sense of comfort, to alleviate stress, to aid in the betterment of your condition, and we MUST DO THAT or we will be fired. There are no ifs, ands, and buts about the situation. We knew this before accepting our roles and that is what WE OUGHT TO DO.

“Religious liberty? Since when is religion about hurtingΒ people?”

If you can call yourself a child of God and your aim is to hurt his children, then the very words you let spill from your lips are hypocrisy. God does not honor hate. God does not honor man. God does not honor a sense of selfishness. God honors love and you as his child, as a believer, are supposed to love. SIMPLE AND PLAIN. These days, I am losing strength and a bit of faith in humanity, but I am trying not to shut down. These days, I do not know this America.

These days, I do not want to know this America, nothing about it is great.

Nothing.


*The full article written by James Finn can be found here:

Trump Attacks Transgender HealthΒ Care

You may not understand why this is important, but I am living day to day praying that I am not personally targeted while my brothers and sisters are. It’s despicable and it ought to be outlawed. Change, real change–is long overdue.