It's Saturday in the mid 1980s Fashion Island Mall is hopping I am at the ice rink My happy place Skating circles while the beeps and boops of video games, The clatter of quarters dropping into the tray of change machines Spills out of The Gold Mine arcade across the way Movie goers in neon and Aqua Net buying tickets for Risky Business Ferris Bueller's Day Off Ladyhawke Teen Wolf or Mannequin At the DJ booth a 17 year old white boy Wearing a black sequined windbreaker and a single white sequined glove Introduces himself as Hollywood Hans Where he spins vinyl into a vibrant soundtrack featuring The Bangles Culture Club Michael Jackson Madonna Eurythmics and Wham I am in the midst of it Skating laps and laps Avoiding the teen hockey skaters with their scary sharp blades and recklessness The kids and teens begging Hans to play their favorite songs: "Play Thriller, Hans!" "I want Eye of the Tiger!" "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go!!" "You got Everybody Wants To Rule The World?" "It would be rad if you play Like A Virgin!" "Dude! Play Broken Wings!" "Like, totally play Love Is A Battlefield" "Walk Like An Egyptian would be bitchin'!" You might find me throwing quarters down the gullet of Dig Doug Pole Position or Donkey Kong While the Zamboni resurfaces the ice once an hour Or, begging my mom for one of Sbarro's signature giant slices of New York style pizza A food court staple Bonus prizes if she throws in an Orange Julius Aspiring figure skaters owning center ice Spinning and jumping dramatically Kristi Yamaguchi among them I'd later learn I am here to glide in endless circles to the music Flying fast and free Occasionally spinning or trying to Shoot the Duck With mixed results Singing along to all of the songs Always sad when Hans calls the last skate of the session Reluctantly drying my blades Pulling on my skate guards Following my mom out of the mall to the car Exhausted and happy Already dreaming of the scratch of blades on smooth resurfaced ice The rhythms of the 80s Taking my broken wings and helping me to fly again Time after time A holiday For a girl that just wants to have fun
These poems are a journey That began in the light of hope and love Then slowly meandered through increasing darkness They dare to expose the skeletons and demons Barely hidden behind my front door for too long The narration begins in the middle After darkness had well fallen And documents my struggle to breathe My desperate journey to find myself again
And for those who live with horrors who wear human faces If I found my way free I know you can too Let these poems serve as proof That though it is not easy Freedom can be won You can take your life back Write the story exactly as YOU wish it to be
Sometimes the dragon burns down the world As long as you’re standing No matter how wounded You can slay that dragon You ARE the hero of your story YOU get to say when the story is over YOU get to decide how the new book starts YOU get to do whatever the hell YOU want Take my story and forge it into your sword of courage SLAY
In the days of old Storytellers traveled far and wide Plying their trade at hearth and square Sharing tales true and mythical Of heroes and villains Triumph and tragedy Honing the sharpness of their wordplay Weaving captivating tales for coin Where are the bards of today Spinning tales for the eager
I host a phantasmagoria of storytellers Tucked neatly into my pocket Poised to share hours of narration For an audience of one A tap a screen whisks me away Into a plethora of elaborate worlds Thousands of hours of storycraft Read by hosts of skilled modern bards Memoirs and poetry Worlds fictional and factual Could the traveling rhapsodist In their pre-modern world Dare dream of such wonders As the miraculous audiobook
Spring has arrived Birds sing sweetly In quickening branches bursting with blooms My winter soul peers out of bleary eyes Before I pull the covers over my head
I am the fourth daughter to do it alone Independence and survival are in my DNA Only child to a single mother Only granddaughter amongst the cousins Only kid on my block I have lived in comfortable aloneness most of my life Do not believe I do not get lonely I know how to remedy loneliness Trusted family Tribe Are always a keystroke or "hello" away
I'd prefer to have a partner To help me raise and support my children But not at the cost of my independence My independence is foundational in my peace If I cannot retain my independent spirit I cannot sustain my sense of self I need a partner who walks alongside me Who understands that I need to run in my wildness Who does not try to domesticate me Into something less than myself
Aloneness is not absence or lack It is the space where I meet myself It is the door to my Narnia The place where unfettered dreams thrive Where words waltz in ballgowns and tails Where stories bloom from rich soil Where I sit in conversation with discomfort Where I sit in conversation with my gods It is the garden of my delights And it is as precious to me as air
How do I manage alone you ask I understand that I'm never really alone I'm as alone as I choose to be I'm helped as much as I choose to ask for it It is not as perfect or simple as these stanzas may imply But the essence of my truth is here Simplified Distilled into a comprehensible version Of my vast and complex reality A demonstration of shifting perspective Being alone carries so much oppressive connotation I choose to experience it as a necessary liberation Allowing me to navigate life by my own north star Inspiring me to never lose sight of myself again
I don’t know what I’m doing I don’t know how to adult Waking up everyday to Some new unknown challenge I’ve been told that God doesn’t Give you more than you can handle They don’t tell you God lays out A buffet of mild to spicy experiences I don’t think I’m a fan of buffets
Love feels like Pandora's Box of contradicting experiences Love alights you upon a mountain top of elation And sequesters you in a dungeon of anxiety Love can feel like Elysian Fields And Dante's Inferno Love can make you feel like an accomplished genius And the village idiot Love gives your soul wings And your body two left feet Love makes poetry of your dreams And salad of your words Love inspires amazing highs And devastating lows Love is celebrated when it arrives And mourned when it departs Pleasure and pain separated by fate's coin toss A game of chance we cannot stop playing
I want to revisit the joy of cartwheels in summer grass Serenaded by the wing beats of bees and the chorus of hummingbirds and sparrows I want to drowse amongst dandelions while playing Warshak games with passing clouds in azure skies I want to hide beneath curtains of willow branches Making friends of the trees with whispered secrets
I want to run time backward To when summer days were never ending And daydreams frolicked in the warmth of long lazy unburdened afternoons I want to sit suspended in the amber of youthful memory Its glowing lens casting every scene in warm nostalgic hues Golden hour light cast upon fading Kodachrome images That compose dust mote-filled summer slideshows of my heart
The digital divide is a divisive devil Erecting electronic edifices Severing sacred spaces Intended for intimate inhabitation Subjugating and suffocating Candid considerate connections Exsanguinating emotional efforts Ridiculously replacing rapport With mindless meaningless memes and Endless eager empty emojis Segregated strangers staring submissively Into inexorable insipidness instead of Havens of humble human hearts
I loved myself plenty I spent so much energy on him there was none left for me But the echos of my knowing The spark that was always the heart of who I am Could not be extinguished No matter how hard he tried And he raged against My defiance to submission and subjugation And when I could endure no more I was done I breathed my flame back to life And I am once again its keeper Ensuring it is fed and protected in any storm I will not be dimmed or diminished again
Words Wishes and Wisdom 