GRIEF
By. Kristina Gregson
Grief is a hard feeling to explain.
One does not truly know what to expect, until they are actually going through the pain.
The pain in the pit of your inner being.
The ache in your heart, feels like it could stop beating.
Your whole body aches with pain, leaving one feeling so drained.
Right down to the blood that flows through your veins.
A hurt, an ache, that can only be described as deep deep sorrow.
One that you know you will still have when you wake tomorrow.
The feeling of loss, the wish I would haves,
The wish I could haves, the wish I should haves,
That feeling of so much wasted time, that could have been spent with better rhythm and rhyme.
More smilies, more hugs, more laughter, more love.
More calls, more talks, maybe even a walk,
More dinners together, more special times.
That is what you wish when your loved one has ran out of time.

When asked my biggest fear, I close my eyes and imagine what my life would be like without you, and that moment alone is terrifying enough that I already have my answer without having to blink again. My biggest fear is having a great day, or a horrible day, and not being able to call you anymore to tell you about it. My biggest fear is needing an old favorite recipe and knowing you’re the only one who has it and now I’ve got no one to ask anymore. When the holidays come along and I don’t want any gifts but you always asked for a wish list, I’m scared I’m going to wish you were here and be sorely disappointed when you don’t come through like you always have before. Part of my job as a daughter is to open my heart up as wide as it goes and take in all the advice, stories, wisdom, and love while I can so if you leave before I do I’ll have enough to keep me going. I just don’t know if or when that day ever comes if I will know what to do, who to call, when to cry, where to fall. You have always been my roller coaster sidekick and I don’t know if I trust this ride without you. If you ask me what my biggest fear is in life, it’s having a life without you in it, mom.

Dear Unsealers,

It’s the first day of April. And that’s no fooling.

I know, I can hardly believe it either as it felt like the year was just starting five minutes ago.

But we’ve arrived at the second quarter of this year. And there’s mostly a blank slate right now. That’s the beauty of each day though, the canvas is there for creation to happen in whatever form we choose.

With that idea in mind, I welcome in the month of April:

Under the April skies
A new month begins

30 days, with a blank slate ahead
A breather after New Year’s, Valentine’s and Easter have all gone

A month where rain falls
The flowers and leaves will surely grow
Under blissful sunny skies

So will the creativity
In the midst of NaPoWriMo
The poems will come fast and furious

With a new quarter of the year on tap
Where will life go from here?

Under April skies
I’ll let the days and nights flow
From there, I’ll know where to go

International Writer’s Day
Acrostic

Internet has facilitated global connections
Never stop the growth of writers
That rend their hearts as their words flow
Empowering the weak to
Remember their worth
Never succumbing to oppression’s
Timely propagation that cleaves
Intimate family members into
Open enemity, clearly ‘Dividing & Conquering’
Needlessly aggressive, destructive,
Avid in mercilessly taking resources and
Leaving nothing to the Indigenous peoples.

Write, revel, rebel, roast, rumble the gruesome
Reality of a world built on Materialism
Instead of unity of humanity
That lends compassion and succor that
Eventually works together against the oppressor
Ruining the ecology, separating family,
Solidifying Darwin’s rules of supremacy

Dealing in strength that overpowers others
Amid illegal, inhumane practices that have
Yet to be punished.

©️ Malak kalmoni chehab ©️

A nightmare became real a few days ago
Seeing it unfold in Baltimore on Twitter X
was confirmation of its existence
Thankfully, you, and I were nowhere near it
But other humans were in the eye of a storm
A storm they didn’t see coming
A storm they never thought would come to pass
A storm they didn’t think
would be the final chapter they would see
In a dark atmosphere
The almost hero of the night
did his best to hold himself up
But the boat’s power that glided in his path
was too much for him to handle
His strength quickly dissipated into nothingness
and finally collapsed into cold and dark waters
along with the people he tried to save
It’s a sad situation
seeing events like this affecting the human nation
It’s another reminder to appreciate life
And to live it with all our might.

Dear Unsealers,

The 25th of March is Cerebral Palsy Awareness Day. And the month of March is Cerebral Palsy Awareness Month in the United States.

It hasn’t been easy to say that I have cerebral palsy. As it was so present in the years that I grew up, it almost became the whole story of who I was. But I’ve come around and accepted the fact that CP is a part of my life. Yet, it’s only one part of the larger story that’s still being written to this very day.

I’m more than the challenges present, and the same goes for everyone in the community in their own ways.

I’ve written something in honor of the day:

National Cerebral Palsy Awareness Day

On the 25th of March
An underserved community’s turn in the spotlight

I’ve had my fair share of challenges
From my eyes, my speech to my feet
But I’ve risen above all of it
To be me, a writer and traveler

CP used to be the entire story
Defined by all the limitations
Now it’s just part of the plot
Of a larger story that’s still being told

On this day and every day
A reminder to everyone…

People with Cerebral Palsy
Live lives of joy and wonder
Unbowed by the impossible

Even if things take more time to do
After all, we bring our full selves to the forefron

Birds still chirp their fucking hearts out on crap days,
Like a karaoke star who’s totally lost his way.
And flowers? They’re gatecrashing funerals with sass,
Whispering, “Was it our fucking fragrance, perhaps?”

People scatter when shit really starts to hit the fan,
Quicker than I say “fuck it” to my diet plan.
But the ride-or-dies? They stick like fucking glue,
Like that piece of gum on your shoe, never bidding adieu.

The moon’s up there, changing her damn mind,
Like me in front of the fridge, a late-night find.
So hey, give yourself a break, don’t stress the fucking phase,
We’re all just bumbling through life’s mad, crazy maze.

In the cracks and crevices, we find our fucking groove,
Dodging life’s big-ass feet, we move and we improve.
Escaping the drizzle, dodging the damn pee,
We’re the fucking misfits, making it, wild and free.

So when life feels as tough as a week-old fucking baguette,
Remember, we’re rocking this shit, no need to fret.
In this grand ol’ mess, we might seem fucking small,
But we’re damn well blooming, giving it our fucking all.

Where have you been?
My time traveling friend
You’re here in the present again

You were stuck in the past
Confused and aghast
Back then and forever in when

You are never here
Through these months and years
When is it that you go?

Sometimes it’s a loss
But my hope I won’t toss
From spring blooms to the fallen snow

But if truth should be told
And if the story unfolds
Did you change everything that you could?

For now it is now
And I don’t know how
You’d claim it to be as you would

Because the trouble with time
It only can wind
To a future that is not yet

However, with you
To the future you flew
Because time for you isn’t set

So lonely you go
A sad, sorry soul
And no one can understand you

We will meet again
My time traveling friend
In a world that to me seems so new

It’s like I’ve been trying to get somewhere my whole entire life, but
hitting every red light along the way.
ITS Like my brakes go out
thousands miles too soon.
And like I burn
thru way too much gas after filling,
and I can’t even trryyy to justify
the wear n tear of the motor.
I have Been spinning my wheel
and getting nowhere
for as long as I can remember.
I’m running on fumes.
My tires are bald.
I’m one blow out away from
swerving into oncoming traffic.
My dreams are in the passenger seat
with a broken seat belt, a drunken smile,
and an empty bottle of vodka
that I haven’t gotten the courage
to throw away.
I have a green valley
of possibility in front of me.
And a mountain of regret
in my rear view mirror!
I’m hoping there is just enough
in the tank to make it to the end of this road. CRASH

Dear Grandpa,
It’s been 11 years snice you’ve gone. I can still remember the night being so peaceful, so still, and so cold. I remember the day we laid you to rest. The snowflakes that fell that day were the biggest ones I’ve ever seen. I wanted to be one of the few who go to carry you to your final resting place, but I watched instead as my brother, cousin, brother in law, and a few others carried you instead.

I’ll never forget when my 18th birthday rolled around and I eagerly went to the gas station and bought a can of your grizzly wintergreen chewing tobacco. I took it to you grave and had lunch with you. The sun was shining and I was happy enough even though you weren’t with me anymore.

You were my best friend. The amount of days I skipped school just to hang out with you nearly cost me my graduation. The people at school frowned upon the week I missed when you passed. Said I shouldn’t have been gone that long and that I needed to be there from then on. What was I supposed to say? Grief has no time limit and I wasn’t capable of dragging myself out of bed to go be around people who never understood me. You always did though.

I wonder what you would think of me now. Would you still be proud of me? Would you still be able to sit in silence with me and just watch the tv? Would you still be able to look me in the eyes and tell me everything was going to be ok? You were my safe place in this world and even though it has been 11 years my heart still hurts. I yearn to hear your laugh, see your smile, and feel the warmth of your hugs.

I love and miss you so much, Grandpa.

Dear Tay,

Two disclaimers about this piece before I shoot my shot: actually, three. This is not a letter to Taylor Swift, not a ploy to be your man, and I am not calling you Tay to embarrass you!

So, who am I talking about? Two people, Taylor Rooks and Joy Taylor, both of whom are Black women in sports.

When thinking of these women, I won’t lie, they are very physically attractive and some may claim that this is why they are on TV.

They recently collaborated, co-hosting their podcast called Two Personal. Rooks and Taylor do a great job at their “daily job”(talking about sports) and giving a voice to others to express themselves.

In this joint venture, the duo are unfiltered, authentically highlighting the ups and downs of being a minority, especially in the sports world where being judged for superficial characteristics is the norm.

In the first few episodes, they have discussed topics that are, well… personal.

The episodes have included subjects such as pregnancy.

The theme of each episode is not why I am attracted to it, it’s that my personal takeaway is:

No matter what sport they are covering, the leading story about Tayx2 is not about the work the women do in the sports arena, to me, they portray that being a proud Black woman is what they want people to talk about when the conversation about them starts.

I’ve stated this before: sports was a way for me to hold my emotions in, and yes, you would be pretty hard-pressed to convince me that the final seconds of a game where the 16 seed has a chance to push off the 1 seed from “the dance floor” (March Madness pun) is not more heart-throbbing than when the final rose is given out in the Bachelor series.

But the two can co-exist.

So, thank you Joy and Taylor for showing that talking about the final few seconds of the game does not have to be substituted for talking about the first few seconds of my life. They can be on the same team “dancing” together!

Much Love & Respect,

Jake April

Photo credit: Two Personal Instagram Page

Why do I cling to love?
A love that was never mine.
Why would I dream of a future?
A future that ain’t for me to picture.
Why would I create a fantasy?
A fantasy that was never born.
It leaves my heart aching
for something intangible.
Why do I cling to love,
a love that was never mine?
Time and distance can have an effect on the mind yet be completely irrelevant to the heart. The heart knows what it knows
and loves what it loves
like it has a mind of its very own.
It takes bravery to break old habits.
It takes courage to sit with your own mistakes. Growth is uncomfortable.
Why do I cling to love,
a love that was never mine?
Maybe it’s time to break the hold
on a love that was never meant
to unfold 💔