The History of Storms

there are thing that cannot be known

by those who do not a know

air

so gentle 

seizing of all that was once innocent 

once sweet turned sour in the unknowing 

that can never be known
unless we were there
we were not

there is a softness 

a sickness there 

one turned malignant

diseased

one longing for cure 

but not knowing how to ask

there is always a way to ask
unless
there isn't

there is a table there

one flipped time and time again 

in a breeze 

disguised as soothing 

as knowing 

as invisible as the wind

that 

ruffled your hair
that time

the thing about air

about wind 

about breezes

is that every one needs it

even as it cannot be seen by eyes 

focused forward 

in a war no one enlisted for 

drafted 

none the less 

no one can win 

because that is not the goal 

burn it all down 

in the ruin of it all 

the temperature risen so high 

it calls for emergency rooms 

for evacuation

for oceans 

moving in the wrong direction 
shots fired
there are always shots fired

condensation has no choice 

it lands on our faces 

a failed attempt to wash 

something so dirty 

clean 
impossible

there is no right answer 

there is no next time or tomorrow 

there is only rain and questions 

only windows 

forced open 

and and paperwork 

only debris and broken boys 

only answers not asked for 

only band aids where surgery was required

only questions we will never know the answers to

truth no longer resides in your tongue

your heart turned detritus 

turned vengeful 

cloaked in revisionist history

there are things that cannot be known 

answers that were never questioned 

a fish that took on to much air 

found it was unable to float 

decided fuck it 

if I drown in my home

we all drown in my home

despite the wet
it will all burn

the flames will burn it all

there is always

air to feed the flames

always

Must Do Better!!

The last year and a half were rough. I hit a really low point and the people I thought I could depend on taught me some hard lessons on top of the low. I have my steady handful and plan to keep them, they also, ironically, knew me before all this. It's the afters. I had to come to terms with a lot of things that shook me and made me want to re-evaluate how I relate to people. My loyalties were tested and found to be one-sided as I realized that there were people in my life that I considered priceless while they considered me optional or after thought. It messed me up more than I thought. Like abandonment issues weren't enough here's a nice big ass dose of trust issues, oh and here are some more ghosts to go with the others. So I took to the road as much as I could. Never in town long enough to be lied to, taken for granted or worse, a joke.

So I don't trust my judgement these days or maybe it's my heart I don't trust. As a result I am watching my life go by from the relative safety of the edge not even daring to jump in to the pool. I met someone a several months ago and after a few dates I caught myself running through the various scenarios, the hierarchy of friendship,  the lying about unnecessary shyt, the making up unnecessary excuses, the promises made just to be broken and what I might do to the next person who hurts my kid. That date ended badly. Not rudely, I'm rarely rude, just me disconnecting from the grid and making sure "Welcome" is not tattooed on my forehead.

I have recently been tempted and am standing in the shallow end of the pool. Just ankle action. I want to believe she won't hurt me, but I can't trust it completely. Not yet. She will have to come to me, that makes me nervous because, well, what if she doesn't?

I remember saying, years ago in response to someone who asked when I would settle down again, maybe in my 50's! Well, 50 is approaching and maybe uttering the words so long ago, manifested them at the time I defined when I put into the world. Or not. Until then I am on the move, busy getting my ankles wet from time to time.

I started this blog as a recovery journal when I had my partial hysterectomy in 2005 (I was having many moments back then). Since then it has been a repository for rants, heart to hearts, poems and can you believe this shyt stories. I stay busy to keep the loneliness at bay and I have very few folk to use as soundboards that haven't rendered me out of sight out of mind. So, I think I will use this space more in the future to recover and get through some of the lonely along with the occasional rant, heart to heart, poems and can you believe this shyt stories.
You know, like usual.

I am going to start a new blog for National Poetry Month. I'll try to remember how to link it to this one, or watch a You Tube video to figure it out.

This weekend all my kids will be home so I'm gonna love on them extra to stock pile the hugs, Zion's gonna hate that, but deal he will. My actor has auditions and this mommy knows, my baby is going to kick much artistic ass. She is just like her mother in that department.

SS

That Girl and Her Damn Pearl Earring

So my two day dark-fest, mourning more than one loss, is waning. The brain is a tricky thing. Triggers find themselves in the strangest places. Dad's card, Lorraine's obituary and Jekonni's picture and his angel, finding themselves in the and out of the same box. The box I thought I'd forgotten about. Though, I can never forget them, those angels in plain sight, who left missing pieces in me. I felt you all in the museum today. Lorraine commenting, "How silly such a big room for such a small painting." Jekonni helping the elderly woman adjust her earphones using my hands. My dad whispering, "Lucinda Bunnen, remember she was one of you contributors the year you won that title, her art is hanging on the walls in this museum where in a week you will be teaching young people poems. You have all this behind and in front of you at the same time."
Then that moment when moved more by the memories than the art, the tears come again, the three of them snickering and giggling, "Now people will think the art moved you. You are so sensitive Theresa, so deep with all that emotion on your sleeve."
No one heckles quite as lovely as the dead.

I feel lighter y'all. Those missing pieces filling up with the new things I am living and learning, understanding that filling them will never remove you from my life.
Thanks.

My life with Zion, the love of my life!!

Zion in the middle of a flashback of the one month he went to day care when he was four, at the end of the, "We need to go there and if those women are still alive, we need to save the children because if they (the adults) are any thing like they were when I was there, a child is being spanked right now!"

Then he says, "Hey mom, did any black people die in Wolverine?"
"No Zion. A black bear bought it though."
Silence
"Mom, you know my favorite part of Wolverine?"
"No black people died?"
"So that was you're favorite part too! That proves it. I'm your son!"

So, I'll tell you if I haven't already, about when Zion walked out of the last last X-Men movie because the black character named Darwin, who is supposed to be able to adapt to his surroundings was killed. I believe the declaration as he stomped out of the theater was, "HOW THE HECK YOU GOING TO CALL THE BLACK CHARACTER DARWIN AND HIS POWER IS TO ADAPT TO HIS SURROUNDINGS AND HE DIES BECAUSE HE CAN'T ADAPT TO HIS SURROUNDING!!THAT'S IT!! I'M MAKING MY OWN MOVE AND GUESS WHAT MOM? EVERYBODY IN IT WILL BE BLACK MOM. AND GUESS WHAT MOM? NO ONES GONNA DIES!"

It was a very proud moment for me. I get all teary just thinking about it... That's my baby. Hercules, Hercules!!

My Daughter's First Joke 3/30

My Daughters First Joke


we are meeting
as we do
in the fall like we do
in our small home there
are at least thirty people here
family
that’s how we roll
she is four
I am tumbleweed bouncing
from small room to small room
it doesn’t matter
every belly will be filled
every drink as well
my daughter is stalking my shadow
she is four and confident
she is telling me something
“Mom, I have a joke and it’s funny.”
I tell her I know
she stares daggers
which translates
to
“You say that all the time.”
there is music and chatter
spades and uno
there are folks eating dinner
and eating dessert
it’s family
this is what we do

she stands
four years old in her pretty dress
hands on her hip she clears throat no one
can hear her because no one is listening
she decides to wear her big girl voice
“ I have a joke, and it is funny.”
everyone pauses for the cause
some forks in mid air
a Boston derailed
she smiles speaks only
when she has everyone’s attention
“what has a hole and you screw it?”

you could hear the breath stilling
in the chests of every person in the room
I become petrified tree
stuck in spot hand fluttering to throat
my brother
bursts into laughter
my mother eyeball him to the kitchen
the younger children try to guess
the adults are in a state of terror
I exchange feverous eyes with
my now wasband

“what is it? come on, guess.
what has a hole and you screw it?”

no one guesses
no one breathes
no one moves
my brother is giggles away
from hyperventilating in the kitchen

“a light bulb!”

the relief flowed through the room
held breath released laughter ensued
my tree trunk legs go wobble
I plant myself in the nearest chair
she curtseys
then flounces
and that’s really the only word for it
stands in front of me striking a b-boy stance
“I told you it was funny”

I scoop her in my arms
make a promise in my head
to teach my baby how to tell a joke
that doesn’t cause mental heart attacks
we laugh together
my baby told her first joke
and after the trauma
it was pretty damn funny

November 30/30 #1

  Saturday Night Live
 
 
We often squatted there.
 
The bed just a queen but we all fit so it feels king sized.
 
Family time in the room with the biggest television
happened nearly every Saturday night.
 
Tonight, Michael Jackson and Diana Ross will be singing to us.
A special night. We get to stay up late.
 
My sister worries a loose tooth.
It is so loose that it moves whenever she takes a breath.
In and out it wiggles there like a threat.
 
My brothers play checkers on one edge of the bed.
The younger brother lives for the triple jump.
"King me!" he yells wanting everyone to know of his victory.
They've been playing all day.
He hasn't won a single game.
He wears hope like a Boy Scout badge.
His eyes are glazed, he will fall asleep before the game is over.
 
The boyfriend soon to be father begs the younger daughter
with the loose tooth to let him pull it out.
She screams like she is on fire.
 
The older daughter reads Tiger Beat magazine
waiting for her future husband Michael
to smile at her from the glow of the television screen.
Soon she will be old enough to marry.
He will see her and fall in love.
He will, as long as Diana is not around.
 
The older brother leaves the room for a potty break.
When he returns the younger brother has fallen asleep fingers on his king.
 
The younger daughter with the loose tooth has also fallen asleep.
The boyfriend soon to be father taps the older sister on the shoulder.
Places a finger across his lips, points at the sleeping girl.
He pulls the tooth so easily the girl never moves.
The older daughter, older brother, mom and boyfriend soon to be father
giggle behind their palms.
 
Michael and Diana are singing now.
The older daughter has tears in her eyes.
She wishes Diana would stop touching her one day husband.
 
The younger daughter stirs. She wakes.
She staggers to the bathroom for a potty break.
The toilet flushes she turns on the faucet to wash her hands.
She screams like she is on fire.
Grabs at her throat.
Says she swallowed her tooth and now the tooth fairy won't come
and she thinks she's going to die.
 
The younger brother jerks awake.
Fingers still clutched around the checkers.
He takes a triple jump.
Declares himself the winner and falls back asleep.
 
The boyfriend soon to be father grabs up the younger sister.
Shows her her tooth.
She smiles a shaky smile. Thanks god she is not going to die.
Demands to be tucked in for bed.
She doesn't want to piss the tooth fairy off by making her wait.
 
The older boy puts the checkers in the box. He puts the game away.
He wakes the younger brother. He will deposit him on the lower bunk
Before he climbs to the top.
 
The older daughter kisses Michael goodnight.
There are six posters of him on the walls of her bedroom.
His face is kissing level on each.
She sleeps with Tiger Beat under her pillow.
Thoughts of MJ dancing in her head.
 
The mother and the boyfriend soon to be father
tidy up and ready themselves to do what grown folks do in the dark.
The house is quiet again.
Another Saturday night put to bed.

Worst Case Scenario #2

#2 what to do when you hear a woman being raped

you wake with a start
disoriented you stagger to you babies room
thinking something is wrong
when you find them sleeping soundly
you focus on what you are hearing
you go back to your room
remove the butcher knife from under your pillow
and slowly creep towards your back door
you peep through the peep hole
see the man slap the woman
he tells her to shut the fuck up
the calendar on the wall tells you it’s Sunday
you watch him tear her dress
hold her down and yank at her underwear
you see him lower his pants
cover her mouth and he begins the violation
you hesitate
then call 911
you whisper what you see
beg them to leave you anonymous
they say they will
you don’t believe
you go back to the peep hole
you want to save her
you know you can’t
you pray the babies can’t hear
you move to the kitchen window
lift the blinds peek out and see the officer
you hear a scream
the officer talks into his shoulder
places one hand on his gun
you run to the peep hole
you watch the man pull up his pants
and spit on the woman
you run back towards the kitchen you see the officer
gun drawn other hand held in a stop motion
you hear the guy explain that it was nothing
you see the woman stagger out
she scream she was raped
you see the officer turn the guy around
place handcuffs on his wrist and as he looks up
the officer sees you
you stare at each other
he nods
you panic
the ambulance comes
they are all leaving
you breathe for what feels like
the first time in an hour
you do the mother thing
make breakfast
play games
talk baby talk
your head is a hamster wheel
you put the babies in their play pen
put on their favorite movie
the little mermaid
she wants to be human
and for some strange reason
you think that is the saddest thing you’ve ever heard
you shield your tears from your babies
listen to them sing a part of your world
even the one that can’t talk
and you sob
there is a knock at the door
you tense
the babies sing
you peep through the peep hole
you realize
you spend a lot of time
peering through peepholes
there is a man
the police officer from earlier
now in plain clothes
you are grateful for the absence of uniform
you open the door leaving the slide bolt in place
he hands you his card
thanks you for calling in the assault
tells you that he spoke to all of your neighbors
were at home dressed to got to church
and none of them even thought about calling
you are screaming inside your chest
he tells you
you are alone
you believe
he tells you that if you need anything
call the number on the card and ask fo him
you nod dumbly
he tells you he will watch out for you
a tear slides across your cheek
he hears the babies
tells you not to worry
you worry
when you close the door you dissolve
your babies stop singing
they watch you fold
they feel it
everybody cries
Ariel sings