The Ladybug

A ladybug landed on my hand.

I was in my car with the window down, waiting for my friend to show up when a ladybug landed on my hand.

I didn’t see it at first and panicked because something landed on my hand.

I smacked it away before I realized.

I think I killed it.

I made me think for some reason…

Think of this chapter of my life

How it is not the best

But also, not the worst.

I think that the worst was last year.

Last year was something else.

If anything, bad could happen; it would.

I mean, there was some good in the bad,

Like getting a job.

Yet, I also had my first three panic attacks.

Or when I got my license after three tries.

Yet, my grandpa got cancer a week later.

Like exactly a week late.

At least I got a car out of it, but it still sucked.

Or like finally finding a therapist.

But also realizing that finding a therapist was just the beginning.

For the past year, I have been working with my trauma and now, I’m better.

I have learned to cope

I have learned to grow.

And I feel happy.

Like never before.

I feel like I can breathe

Even though, my anxiety does not help;

I learn to stay grounded.

Even if I fail,

I know that I can just get back up.

And I and going to try everything I can so that I don’t miss out on anything.

I hope to look back at this part of my life and try to remember the good.

By: Breanna L. Asada

Dear lady in her thirties,

Perhaps I said it best when reflecting on turning 30 last year in June; writing down lessons I’ve learned in my decade of twenties. I’ve entered an endearing period of life met with a fresh beginning. This is what I love about this chapter of my life. As I recall some learning moments as a twenty-something, I want to revisit them and remind myself of how I’m living these out in this third decade of life.

What I want that others have isn’t always as it seems, and it’s okay to wait for my right moment. This brings me to the reality of being single, never having been married, and not having any children when all I see are people my age getting to partake in these life milestones. This is something I want out of my life, and I get anxious about the possibility of this not happening for me. However, I hear stories of hardship, challenges, or struggle some people face with being married, in a relationship, and/or having children, and it allows me to take a step back and be grateful for what I have. I get to grab dinner with my friends and family whenever I want. I get to decorate my home the way I prefer. I can travel in a moment’s notice.

I’ve learned it’s not worth getting stuck in the visions of how something is “supposed to be” and it not working out. I should still experience life and see what happens. Making the best out of my work life in establishing healthy relationships with my co-workers in which we bond over many restaurants and talk delicious recipes. Reconnecting with old friends that bring a sense of coziness. Traveling to Ireland this fall and experiencing the heartiness of their culture along with the beauty of their land. It’s these moments I hold onto, and I don’t even have to worry about visualizing them – they just end up being joyful surprises instead.

Saying “no” is a saving grace, and being comfortable doing this is a delight. I know that it may sting a little in the moment, but trusting my gut of when to say “no” is what I always need to do. I’ve taken one year off dating apps after using them for multiple years with no success. It’s been rejuvenating. Reminding myself that the men I said “no” to certain things because of my values and beliefs not matching up to theirs was all worth every disappointment.

Every mistake is a learning moment and even though letting go of shame seems impossible, thinking about the broad picture of how it will equip me for the next best moment is helpful. Thinking about how I stayed in toxic work environments, accepted people’s hurtful words, made decisions that ended up doing more harm than good—I look back now, and realize how much this has helped me present day in experiencing triumph and contentment that I have the privilege of living. Through this, it gave me focus of fighting for what I deserve and treasure most.

So as I close this letter, I want to remind myself to keep these learning moments that have jumpstarted this chapter of my life. Here’s to the next decade and years to come in creating meaningful memories. I never expected the start of my 30’s to feel so content.

Cheers,
Mariel

My father sat on the sofa with his elbows resting on his spread knees, and he couldn’t keep his gaze locked on mine. His eyes wandered aimlessly around the room as he forced his throat to expel the truth. I already knew what was wrong, but hearing him confess straight to my face stopped my growing denial. The reality of it all sunk in like a hot brand on my chest, searing my skin. I stared at him as my eyes slowly glazed over. My nails picked so desperately at my fingers, hoping to dull the intense misery that now consumed my head. 
The excitement I once had for a steady future started slowly draining from beneath me; all I could do was watch helplessly. Reality hit me like a freight train after August. My house was beginning to resemble the house of a hoarder due to a water leak that took months to fix and my father’s inability to close his wallet when he was greeted with a good deal. My dignity gradually dwindled every time someone stepped foot inside the house as our dirty secret was disclosed. The situation was becoming too relatable, like a sick and twisted metaphor for the inside of my mind. Cluttered with reality, shoving it away, desperately, trying to make each box fit while I covered it up from the outside with sophisticated red bricking and dainty flower hedges. 
Pretty pastel dresses and a caked face adorned with a cheery smile were enough to maintain my bubbly facade. However, there was only so much I could do to ease the aching of my soul. My unconventional methods worked, but I could gradually feel myself falling apart as the cardboard boxes that held my sorrows became soiled with the tears I shed in secret. 
A long, dreadful day ended with my front door slammed shut, leaving my facade standing on the other side. Heavy feet dragged along the floor when one abruptly slammed into another piece of reality resting by the doorway. The sight of it alone made my heart constrict as rage swelled behind my eyes, spilling over in hot tears that rolled down my cheeks. Begrudgingly, I picked up the box, struggling to force my knees to straighten. The bottom of the dingy box finally gave out, scattering its contents across the floor before me. The irony was so great I almost found the humor in it. Rage exploded into utter desperation as my breath hitched. I stood there for an eternity holding that useless box, staring blankly in front of me. At the same time, the hopelessness grew heavier, weighing my heart down like an anchor. I allowed it to take me down, and my knees made contact with the cold laminate floor. I numbly picked up every piece of my fragmented reality, forced to acknowledge everything I had been trying to deny. So many factors were woven together, and with their frayed ends, it was impossible to see how anything would transpire. Every plan I made collapsed as quickly as that pathetic cardboard box. A renewed vigor filled my veins, eradicating the sorrow as I carelessly shoved everything inside a new box. 
I picked up that new pristine cardboard box containing the same old problems. I rushed towards my bedroom and flung open the door, chucking the box to the ground with absolute disdain. It crashed to the floor with a loud thud as all the contents inside rattled together. I wished so hard that the box would engulf in flames that I started to see it. I watched as the tan cardboard turned bright red and crumpled in on itself, desperate to escape from the fire that clung to its skin as it charred. I lowered myself to the floor and sat in front of the blistering heat. I felt the warmth of the flames gently kissing my face as I watched my anguish be carried away with every ember that rose to the ceiling. An eerie, soothing calm washed over my body as a shaky breath left my lungs.
I stared at the pile of ash, finding solace in how everything had been reduced to nothing. The tarnished silver lining was finally revealed to me, and I eventually stood up. Everything that had ever plagued my mind had disintegrated before me, leaving an empty feeling as all my troubles had disappeared in seconds. The only thing left were pre-written pages to look back on to be read repeatedly, always ending eventually. Within a blink, the fire was gone, and my daydream ended, and I was back to staring at that cursed box, but I couldn’t help but love that this chapter would someday eventually end. 

The pounding beat of drum and bass calls to me.
A waft of smoke drifts by as I enter the club.
I am mesmerized by the light show and guitar tones.
When I spot a cute guy wearing a gray T-shirt and black jeans, the flirting begins.
I am childfree, so I can go out when and where I please.

The sun peers through the blinds and I finally wake up at noon.
A mild headache quickly fades.
Though many cocktails were consumed the night before, I am not hungover.
I stretch and climb out of bed, ready to start the new day.
I am single, so I can enjoy sleeping on the entire queen-sized mattress.

My foster dog barks and whines at me.
He is ready to go outside and play with a ball.
We extend our hike around the neighborhood to include the walking trail near my apartment.
After we return home, we play tug of war with his S-toy.
I am an animal lover, so I can spoil my pet.

The blinking light on the computer screen beckons me.
I open the word processing app and look at my notes.
I interviewed the singer of a local heavy metal band a few days ago.
Words flow from my brain to the keyboard as I type quickly.
I am a music journalist, so I can work whenever I feel like it.

A record spins on the turntable.
Discordant notes play from the marbled red vinyl.
I sing along to the hip-hop tune.
The beat goes on and draws me in to the story told in the song.
I am a loner, so I cherish solitary activities.

I live alone as a single, childfree woman.
I serve as mom to animals in need.
I work when I have the time and inclination.
I enjoy spending quality time with myself.
And I could not be happier at this stage of my life.

Thank you for taking the time to read Beauty. It is a spoken word poem and words of wisdom from an aging self-critic. Thank you for attention. Peace.
Beauty
I know what I look like.
This is the face that I see each morning.
Deep lines form parenthesis around my mouth.
There is a canyon formed between my eyebrows.
Crevices radiate out from each eye like carved rays of light.
I do not despair at my appearance.
I am at war.
These are battle scars.
Since leaving childhood.
A battle rages inside me.
A struggle for control of my outward appearance.
Set out into the world to face the daily insults of womanhood.
This war is born of disappointment, rage, and grief.
This angry leprechaun attempts to vanquish my psyche.
She is enraged at unkept promises,
Unrealistic expectations,
Self-imposed limitation.
Hands balled into fists,
She stomps through my consciousness.
A halo of flaming red hair encircles her twisted features.
She spends her days terrorizing the small creatures,
My inner child,
My self esteem,
My self-image.
At night she adds her banshee screams to the chorus of disapproval.
She screams insults,
“You’re always late!”
“You’ve never had an original thought in your life!”
“You’re a terrible mother.”
Until my better angels soothe her into submission.
They croon, “There, there my precious child….”
Momentarily quiet, she simmers in rage just waiting,
For the next perceived offence
Injuries real and imagined.
This is no easy feat
To vanquish years of insult, frustration, and anguish.
I wear the scars of battle,
Deep parenthesis around my mouth
signs that I have not allowed the leprechaun to voice my grievances.
Lines that radiate from eyes
carved by fake smiles as I placate unreasonable requests.
The canyon between my eyes
Etched by years of squinting at the unfathomable cruelty of my fellow man.
I wear these lines with pride.
A sign that my inner angels have prevailed.
As I enter my years of wisdom,
I admonish myself daily.
You are strong.
You are compassionate.
You are wise.
From deep within,
The leprechaun only murmurs.

Twenty-one

Go to bed or stay up?
Probably the latter.
Vodka or Gin?
It doesn’t matter.

Tomorrow’s the test.
But tonight is for laughter.
You won’t get an A.
That doesn’t matter.

She’s cute. Will you marry?
We’ll solve that after.
One or two kids?
It doesn’t matter.

Where will you work?
I’ll think of that later.
What are your goals?
I’ll know when it matters.

See, I know that you care
But please stop your chatter
For its Friday night
And that’s all that matters.

I’m grateful that what once would have shaken me to my core, now shows me I’m
destined for more. Believe it or not, even after losing a full-time job unexpectedly, I’m in a state of peace and flow with the universe. I may have anxiety and depression ; BUT, now, they no longer have me.

Every little thing IS g̶o̶n̶n̶a̶ ̶b̶e̶ alright. 🧘🏽‍♀️
My faith is being tested immensely on the brink of some significant changes; but, I know everything falls in place for my highest good. Life has shown me that often the longer it takes for me to get what I’m asking for, things work out better than expected. The space in-between the flows of abundance, and how you use your time and energy matters just as much, if not more than your winning season. Instead of sulking in despair, I’m enjoying life with friends, new and old, and giving thanks for what’s to come, knowing that what is meant for me cannot come into my life until what is not for me is removed.
This season has given me a deeper appreciation for unexpected blessings, generosity from others, and I’m constantly reminded that just like the Phoenix rises from the ashes, I have always been stronger than anything that has ever had the potential to break me. The 22nd of this month was the anniversary of my father’s passing & my cousin’s heavenly birthday. I have cried over their transitions; but, I also take heart in knowing my team of guardian angels is stronger than ever.

My nickname for my dad was Nam. So instead of Namaste, Nam, I’ll stay in my peace as I allow things to fall into place, piece by piece.

More Love, less strife
More confidence, less fight
The ability to just let things be.
Enabling my mind to stay clear and free.
Understanding that I don’t have to be the one doing everything.
Letting those that want to do, do their thing.
It’s not my call or opinions that matter,
I just want to embrace the differences of others in this chapter.

Gifted with discernment,
I am able to see what is not good for me.
Whether it be people or things,
or the situations they may bring.
If it doesn’t sit right in my soul
or leaves me questioning “What is the goal?”,
I’ve learned to walk away
and go on about my merry and peaceful day.

I hold no grudges and have no contempt.
From anxiety and hurt feelings, I just want to be exempt.
Besides, this chapter of life has no time for that part,
only room for good vibes and a kind, loving heart.

In this chapter, some will be left behind.
This particular loss can be hard to define,
but in due time the weight of what once was will fade,
and the sense of unsettlement will soon be outweighed.
Through growth and learning the value of contentment,
all things meant for me suddenly become clear,
as those that are not will eventually disappear.

In this chapter of my story, I now understand
that life doesn’t always have to have a plan.
I play the cards from the hand that life has dealt me.
Like the champion that I am,
I let my strategy be my ability to foresee.
I Live my life how I want to live it,
accepting all things good and rebuking resentment.
Heavily armed with the lessons that I’ve learned,
I realized that living in the here and now is what this chapter is about
So I will be ready and prepared for my next chapter…no doubt.

This is a poem about my baptism it was on April 6th 2024!

The day He washed my sins away
Was the day I was made new
Knowing that the old life I lived was now done and through
The promise of ever lasting life was just one of the things that came true!
All Glory to our Father,
the one and only El Elyon (the Most High).
Hallelujah to the heavens for I have become alive,
at last I am set free from the prison this flesh had on me.
Sin and judgement are washed away with the blood that our Savior Christ had to bleed.
I now believe and have faith that it was all done just for me,
To be seated in His presents is the greatest gift given to me.
Down in the water with Jehovah Rapha’s arms wrapped around me
Washing my flesh making it clean
a brand new spirit is born inside of me,
One with Christ in all His majesty
at last He helped me love all that makes me.
In His hands is where I was left to be
Mind body heart and soul all reborn through Elohim
a lamp shining bright for all to see.

The Golden Years
Those older and wiser advised
“Make time, travel the world,
before you retire, while you still can.”
I dreaded my golden years.

I understood that my final decades
would be fraught with infirmity,
pain, and misery. If not a shut in,
my good times would be shut down.

For years, my job had been my life.
Almost every hour, it consumed me.
I no longer must obsess over it
or worry about the whims of my boss.

Fortunately, I stayed healthy.
Now I have the time to do the things
I’ve wanted. I can hike the national parks,
sing in a chorale, or write a poem.

I can volunteer in a homeless shelter.
I can play tennis or golf, go dancing,
attend concerts or ballgames, travel
any place a plane will take me.

I no longer see my children’s behavior
as a reflection of my identity.
I have the gift of grandchildren.
for whom I am not responsible,

I enjoy them for who they are.
No longer in charge of anyone but me,
I am almost never asked for advice
As a rule I avoid arguments.

The best part is getting to know
my wife and partner with one-on-one time.
She is not the girl I married, but better,
wise and discerning in all her ways.

My life has become one of joy,
My life sentence is to do whatever
I want, whenever I want, with whomever
I want, for whatever time I have left.

What do I love about this part of my life?
I wonder aloud to myself.
I seem to get caught up in the riptide of the ever quickening current of life and sometimes forget that when I ride the waves rather than resisting, I end up exerting much less extra energy and receiving much more than when my attention is caught up, too.
I do love that I can put this sensation into words, something that creates something from what was once abstract.
I love that I can pause and take just 3 breaths, and remember the gift that alone is.
I love that in this moment in my life, I am able to meet the triggers and challenges I face like an old friend who is just in need of a parcel of love, not to be turned away with vengeance.
I love that I am choosing me, no matter what, in a selfishly selfless way.
Who can pour from what’s empty?
I love that I am discovering what confidence means to me, and also for my ability to give grace, especially to myself, when that confidence I discover falters, even just momentarily.
I love that I can remind myself of all the reasons I have to be confident, and for all the gratitude that I feel for the awareness I’ve cultivated of this, as this practice has at times felt as unnatural as I imagine eating soup on the moon would feel.
I love that I am meeting myself deeper and with more love than I’ve known from myself ever, and for that I rejoice as I know it will be multiplied outwards.
I love that trying new things lights me up with excitement instead of cowering in fear.
I love that I use strength with my voice, no longer one to be bulldozed with others’ words.
I love that my once thorny boundaries have turned to beautiful vines, soft yet strong, ever enduring with elegance and ease.
I love that this chapter of my life has brought me a love of life – once a place that was a barren landscape of nothingness – now a fertile garden bursting with new life and the potential of growth beyond all imagination.

Title: Windows to Heaven
Author: Kai Silvera
————————

Have you ever looked into the eyes of a baby?
It’s like looking through the windows to heaven,
free and immune from anything dark.
I stare into my son’s eyes as he latches onto me.

Dinner is done.
I’ve wrapped a plate in the fridge.
I don’t recall leaving a little note this time.
My son continues to feed,
when suddenly the house gets tense,
like it could sense the next thing coming.
He storms in, ignoring my attempt to casually say:
“Hey, how was your day?”.

He walks past the tiny kitchen
into the living room,
and without a single word exchanged,
I could tell how far gone he was.
His hand touches my cheek
in the way your mother warns you about.
The kind of touch that stings
and sends your head in the opposite direction
of your feet.

I stand still,
stare back
into those beautiful windows to heaven
and try to make my next move strategic,
as if such a thing is possible in a cloud of rage.
You find yourself reassuring him that you’re just
“going into the bedroom to finish feeding the baby”.

He follows,
and you try to diffuse the situation,
but he has no windows to heaven.
Instead he has dark tunnels now,
that fuel the demons in which his tortured soul battles with every day.

And just as you pray for the storm to settle,
the room becomes smaller and smaller
with objects flying all around.
Gravity seems to slow down,
and you ask yourself: “how in the world did I get here?”

You think of those stories about moms
lifting the car to save their child,
and you stretch your five foot frame
as wide as humanly possible
to shield your angel from the dark.
The dark you never saw coming,
The dark you run from, weeks later,
when he’s at work.

You pack two black garbage bags
worth of clothes,
one for you
and one for the kids.
You travel just shy of a 100 miles
to a foreign town
with familiar, loving faces
and start over.
You take on a new life.
You take back the reins.
You feed your babies
so much love
to make up for any void.
You show them it’s okay
to reinvent yourself,
to save yourself,
to start over,
again and again,
as long as it takes you closer
to where you belong.

You make a home built on love,
a place where the windows to heaven
are never closed,
only enlightened and encouraged
to continue spreading the light.

Photo context:
Immediately after writing this today, I drove to get my daughter from school and this was the view. Felt symbolic, affirming.

Thank you for your consideration. This piece came to me within 20 minutes – apparently it needed to be released on the page. Thank you for letting me share the most vulnerable time of my life with you. Grateful for this new chapter.

All the best,
Kai

in my 45th year
not knowing where I was going
the road just led me lawlessly
i wanted the wide and easy path,
to blend and be found
not knowing where I was going
i was pale versions of me
brokenness was hard to shift through
so much easier to just change my skin
become someone who walks away versus stays and wins
never been someone to take a stand
never envisioned myself a winner
always been the girl in the corner trying to be seen
then one day
everything changed
broken and shipwrecked
alone
in a row of strangers
i heard a call on my life
like a lighthouse to the ship so cliché
that’s how He found me
in my tears I heard Him
“Stop being blind. Take a stand. Seek life. You only have this chance…
to understand.”
He called me home
my heart knew where my mind should be anchored
focus is on His word
my constant
the God who gives grace
the truest friend Ive always longed for
the greatest Father to this lost daughter
in this new chapter of where I’m going
i see everything now
through the eyes
of a saved life
the little girl is free
she is who God chose her to be.
in her 46th year

I’m actually running out of things to say
Is something I’d never say
Not now or anyday
But anyways
I been holding this in for many days
See the heart works in many ways
This blur in my mind ain’t just any phase
Nd we all on go we not running any plays
But I’m honestly tired been stressing many days
Like what if I never find someone that stays?
What if I never have a good job that pays?
What if a crack addict attacked me with a bag of lays?
These are just some that in my mind conveys
But unlike others I see through the fog
I got all of the Courage like the cowardly dog
Believe me even if you can’t see far
You’ll always have yourself and your a star ⭐️

At the surprising age of 31,
I sit in my sunroom, leaned back against my new chair at my old desk
(The desk I found, when I was just 11)
It is 9am and I have class
As I settle in to the second course of my new future I look up to the late morning sun spilling through the east window
I see my dear friend, my roommate Brinlee, sitting beside my plants
Her own laptop and notebooks sprawled out around her
We are taking on this new future together
Call us co-creators
We are just a minute late back from break, the decaf coffee she started in the french press still brewing
As she turns and begins to slowly ground
(the coffee that is) (our grounding is more or less sporadic)
I breath in the deep, rich scent
Here in this sun soaked room in early spring the smell hits me bitter-sweet
No, I’m sorry I don’t mean melancholy
I simply mean the coffee, bitter-sweet
All of a sudden I am five years old, alongside my sister Lindsay
We are small and quiet and standing in the kitchen of our favorite next door neighbor, Marnie
She is tall with long blonde hair and earth-tan skin
She holds the air of a woman I have never seen before
She is nice, she offers us Peach-Os, pouring herself another cup of coffee
Even now I remember that smell in that kitchen
Like April sun touching earth in a deep amber stove
I look up, up, up past her blonde halo to see the many wine bottles along the shelf
The coffee, the wine, the tank top she is wearing, the boyfriend still asleep in her bed
I have been told I should be afraid of these things.
But there is something not yet tangible stirring inside of me
Like the way it feels to close your eyes and listen, right up next to a honey bee
Or the way the light cuts along water ripples, making real life sparkles
dancing
mesmerizing
In this brief moment of memory, the light along the waves and the hum of the bee near my cheek returns
This time with a sort of knowing
I take in the scene again in front of me and realize in a start of gratitude where I sit now
What I hold now
The air of woman who, at the surprising age of 31
Is living with her best friend
And tending to her plants
A woman who is putting on a tank top and walking back to her desk
in a room full of light and art and books and letters and
the smell of coffee
You could say it is a simple thing but,
I still, find it quite surprising

There You are Again.

What can I say about this journey? A journey already taken and awakened by energy before me. A journey I didn’t count on, I had a different plight . With no consistency no boundaries and a purpose I thought had no purpose. So purposely I created a purpose. I did my manifestation as I waited to be awakened, By some form of Love that was often forsaken lied mostly adjacent and kept me in places with multiple faces. I digress! I stayed. I risked myself and my senses. I was totaled by life my soul was not dented! I immediately resented the life I was gifted. Fermented my powers in things I can’t mention. So what’s the intention? To live with out mention or die from suspension it’s crossed my mind. But my mind didn’t listen the voices persistent. I was 20 years into my plight. This is me reminiscing!

As my journey continued, I found solace in self, And I reached out for help. No longer insecure of the cards I was dealt. I immediately felt healed. Not revived not renewed! Healed. When you lose you in others my fathers passing gave me a brother. After 43 years we now had each other. We laugh and we love it’s so pure to know myself through his eyes. They say it’s on the sparrow. But you’d be surprised. He gave me the strength to love me again because I can do all things, that’s how I knew I would win. Where I am now the days make more sense the time is daily. I stay in present tense. Love conquers me because I conquered love. Love of Self, Love of Self -Love of Self

I am growing in places I didn’t even know was possible. Where I am from, people often get stuck. Mentally, financially or in whatever way possible. Stuck in time so much that people that know them from five years ago and people that know them from today know the same version of them. These people often repeat the same rhetoric: I am who I am. My biggest fear is being stuck. I have an amazing corporate job working for a technology company, but I want more. I have three degrees, but I want more. I crave progression in my life to a point that these thoughts invade my dreams. I don’t aspire to work up the ladder at the same job for twenty years or to stay at a job for the benefits and 401k. I don’t care about which insurance is offered or what discounts I can get through the company. I want more. I need more. I am meant for more. I love that in this chapter of my life I am not confined by my environment. I love that I am slowly breaking out of my shell. I will not lie and say I am not terrified to take that step. But what I know for certain is that I am not alone. The person that I was five years ago was too scared to walk, with goals that didn’t align with my soul. Now I am walking with God towards my purpose, open and ready to be molded into the person that I am meant to be – the person that lives in my dreams. I have grown from where I was and I refuse to walk backwards. I am who I am, but I am constantly getting better.

Dear Unsealed
Today I look forward to my life.
This decade I am 74 years old.
Not sure but had lots of strife.
So, I have been told.
I can say today,
As I relay or dream night and day
Of younger days and love and heartache
Of give and take,
This decade of clicking the box,
That says 70 +,
Such a fuss.
I am an elder with wisdom,
About life and love,
But somehow remain strong,
With reason and rhyme
Of space and time.
This is a time when I should have respect
From kid, grandkids, but
It does not always happen as I have kept.
Moving forward with time
Books and computers all that
I read, listen to music, write and all that.
This period in my life
I look back at relationships,
Loves, marching for equality for all,
And the concept of my fight for humanity
Love, peace, and light,
Are still not understood by certain people in my life.
I thought by this time
With reason and rhyme
They would understand my strife,
To create peace and love
Blessed from up above.
However, this is not so with certain people
But now I am old
I continue to be strong and bold.
I toss specks of salt
Over my right shoulder and left shoulder
To send peace to all
As I recall
Without humanitarians as I am
To tell folks it’s okay
Today
Tomorrow
Any day
I am to adventure to say
I do it my way
You do it your way.
I live one day at a time,
One moment at a time
Of reason and rhyme.
At 74 years old
I am still for peace and love,
Despite the folks who shut me down
All around town
I am woman.
Here me roar!
I have been down there on the floor,
Still an embryo
But I will be strong, progressive,
To move forward in time
With reason and rhyme
I am considered to be an old lady.
I can dye my hair pink.
Or gold or red.
Or whatever I choose,
Its okay today

Pending transactions, exemplified male tractions. I hold these truths to be self-evident, that I am the truth, the light, and the way. Mockery of self-gratification interrupts sensory.
Sensory of convenience and stride, that pimped out momentum of pride. I have no doubt, that I can love me, forever, rings in the echoed frustrations of potential.
Potent aids of expectations and security breaches. Unfiltered predictions and passed down sorrows and frictions. Demands of freedom on guard. Stagnant states of undreamt forward movement, projections of enduring.
Endurance of setbacks and pain forgotten, for within victory I’m plotting. Plotting up a role beyond my own initiative. Do not expect less cause in this chapter, I announce recess. Air Bourne opinions, shape shifting emotional bonds and irrelevant feelings.
Irrelevant feelings of acceptance and assurance for God is my rock. On a need-to-know basis redirects traffic, for I am the moderator, the innovator, and the headliner. I am the chapter.

Telisha L Dennis
Saturday-4/20/2024