Thursday, December 22, 2011

"I Am Not Fluent In Squawk" Published in Issue 52 of SGVPQ

Here is an excerpt

...How long do we have to
Keep on patting his tiny back,
To get the burps or gas
That we currently seem to lack?
Make this sad boy happy,
How can I nurture him to grow?
I hold you and rock you,
Give you meds, but still you cry “No!”

I’m trying to do this,
I need your help, wish you could talk;
I don’t know what you want
Since I am not fluent in ‘squawk’;
Always monitoring
Your breathing, watch you huff and puff;
Turning up oxygen
To make sure you will have enough.

The monitor does beep,
All of the lights are flashing red;
Looking at the numbers,
They show you’re actually dead!...

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Submissions Chicken Soup for the Soul

I just submitted quite a few poems and 1 story to Chicken Soup for the Soul, they have a couple of issues coming out in the future, one on Parenting and also on New I submitted

"Slowly Unfolding" Here is a snippet:

Our new friendship is something…kind of like a cloud
Needed for covering when the sun is too loud.
It is like a rare book, aged, you don’t want to touch
Curious of what’s inside, kept safe in a hutch.

For their Parenting Issue, I submitted "You're a Mommy Now", "Never Refuse a Cuddle", I Am Not Fluent In Squawk", "Return on Investment", Welcome to Motherhood", "Discombobulated", and "Shape Up or Ship Out"

Here is "Welcome to Motherhood"

Welcome to Motherhood

Hocking loogies, feeding baby, trying to cough in the other direction;
Mother’s do not get days off, even when they’re full of infection.
The job is demanding, the boss never takes ‘no’ for an answer;
There’re no days off, even if you happen to be dying of cancer.
There is no debating allowed here, no could, would or should;
This occupation is for life; welcome to motherhood!

Photo taken by: Peter Lang (From the Mass Mutual Commercial Shoot October 2011)

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

100 Thousand Poets for Change - DRIVE BY

I completely spaced it off and didn't even let you guys know that I was asked to read my poetry at 100 Thousand Poets for Change in September. The great poet that asked me to read is Christian Elder (he saw me perform at a book store earlier in the year and saved my info.) So we were in Venice, and event was sponsored by Beyond Baroque Literary/Arts Center. They had so many poets there were 2 stages going at the same time...and this was happening all over the world.

I did a new piece that I'd never done before (it wasn't memorized) Because I didn't want to go with something standard, but as the show was about changes that needed to happen in the world I chose this one.It's tentatively titled DRIVE BY and talks about how the neighborhoods used to be before all the gangs became prevalent and how one little old granny is doing her best to clean up the streets using prayer as her main is a portion of it.

To be accepted, you began to bang,
Deaf to her voice, influenced by your gang.
She’s done sittin’ back, just saying a prayer,
Lettin’ you know she’s not easy to scare.

Makin’ sure great grandkids can play outside,
Prays over each barred up house on her ride.
Covers the block with her flock, when they pray;
You’ll see changes happen day after day.

Employment increase and murder decrease
And fear ridden households soaking up peace
Dad’s will come back, screams and anger are hushed
Parent’s get sober, crack and meth are flushed

Crimes in progress, that are set with cocked gun,
Will stop abruptly, then watch the perps run,
Kids will respect authority, they’ll obey moms
Clean up their language –stop dropping F-bombs

Monday, December 12, 2011

Published in Issue 51 of SGVPQ

I was published last quarter in Issue 51 o the San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly.

The poems was Indigestion and Red Fingernails

Here is an excerpt of part of it:

My husband is holding my hand
As I am writhing in the bed;
Wait! I can’t have a baby now,
It’s too early, he might be dead!
And now that I’m thinking of it,
I’ve not felt him move for awhile;
I’m dilated to seven?
I react with a confused smile.

I guess it’s true, we’re in labor,
That explains this horrendous pain;
Still not quite aware that my life
From now on will not be the same.
The nurses prep the tray and tools,
Ready for precise incision;
I yelled “You’re not cutting on me!”
That is my final decision.

They say “But the baby is breech,
And that is what we have to do”;
I wanted a calm water birth,
So he could then just ease on through.
My husband had to leave the room
In order to make each phone call;
I scream “Why do people do this!!!”
My hubby hears me down the hall!