Stand Together

There is enough darkness in this world without being regressive.
Don’t destroy the progress we’ve made, the steps we’ve taken, and the lives we’ve saved.
Everyone is a dreamer, yes, really, everyone.
You know why?
Because everyone has dreams!
For some though, “Dreamer” is a title, a miracle that gives them a chance for dreams to come true.
America was always meant to be the Fairy Godmother in the stories. Don’t be the Evil Stepmother. Don’t be the wicked one who keeps children up at night. Life may not be a fairytale, but that doesn’t mean we should strive for villainy. That’s not who we are.
We are one people, together.
John Lennon believed we could do better: “You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. I hope some day you’ll join us, and the world will be as one.”
In “Imagine,” Lennon believed the world could stand as one. Our goal should be to prove that.
We can do this together. Don’t take away DACA. Don’t take away Title IX. Don’t make us afraid to leave our homes. I say “us” and “our” because we are one:
One people
One hope
One future
Together we stand, divided we fall.
We need to move forward. Go ahead, take a step. I’ll be right there beside you.
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The Woes of Family Vacations

Hey guys!

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything, but life has been insane! My eighteenth birthday came and went in a swirl of parties and an Indians game. For those of you who don’t know, the Cleveland Indians are my favorite sports team and I love baseball. My brother decided that an Indians game was the perfect way to celebrate my birthday, and I agreed, especially since they won (with a four-run lead for the cherry on top). The other highlight of my birthday was passing my driving test! So, I’m legal on the road now, which basically just means I help my mom pay for insurance, gas, and run errands.

Essentially, I had a great birthday, but that isn’t the point of this post.

Obviously, you guys want to hear about my family vacation. We left the day after my birthday (which also included a 7:30 AM Physical Therapy appointment- but that’s another story). My family was supposed to go see the Statue of Liberty on the first. Notice the word “supposed?” Yeah… it was an interesting day.

So, the first thing you have to understand is very simple: our family vacations always involve car problems. Every. Single. Time. If it’s not an actual car breaking down problem, then something happens with one of the people in the car.

  • Exhibit A: the dog vomiting on my brother in the backseat of a van during our trip to Gettysburg.
  • Exhibit B: the truck breaking down while doing a cross-country trip to see Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon.
  • Exhibit C: our aunt’s battery died on the way to Buttonwood.

I could keep going, but I’ll spare you my embarrassment.

Once you know about that tradition, you have to be wondering what went wrong this time, right? Well, it’s very simple. We were taking three cars into New Jersey to the Liberty State Park so we could take ferry and go see the Statue of Liberty. Sounds simple, right? Wrong.

We didn’t even pull out of the driveway before my cousin points out that our uncle’s truck smells awful. It’s a diesel truck so we didn’t think much of it, at least, not until we’re on the highway. Suddenly, we can see because there’s something burning in the truck and it’s creating a cloud of smoke so thick my aunt had to pull off the highway and pray to God my other aunt realized she was stopping.

That’s all well and good. My one aunt and uncle decide to stay back with the still smoking truck and my youngest cousin to wait for the tow truck, while the rest of us would go on to New Jersey. We’re cruising, slightly more cramped than we were in the beginning, and we’re barely on the road for twenty minutes when my brother texts my mom warning her not to stop at a rest stop in New Jersey because they’re all closed due to the government shutdown.

Well… a government shutdown also shuts down the State Parks.

I didn’t get to see the Statue of Liberty.

I did get to see another Burger King and Wal-Mart though!

The start of our family vacation involved getting up at a quarter till four just to go to Burger King and Wal-Mart.

This is going to be a very exciting trip.

(Oh, and the truck hasn’t even been seen yet because the garage door at the auto place was broken. We’re such lucky people).

Poetry Day #30

Ignorance

Go ahead,

take a bow.

Should we be proud of your insolence?

Your ignorance, and indifference?

We are female.

We are proud.

We will not kneel at your feet.

We will not bend nor break even if we feel weak.

We are women.

We are strong.

We will carry on and be learned.

We will care and tend the weak, for we are steadfast.

Go ahead.

Wear your tie, your cuff links, your pride.

Appreciate how much you make,

if you were us,

you’d understand.

Being one of us is hard,

but, we are strong.

faithful,

loyal,

brave.

We are women,

and you are wrong.

 

 

AN: And that was it folks! Thirty poems in, well, technically less than thirty days because I started late, but I only ended a day late! I have no idea what I’m doing with this now that National Poetry Month is over, but I knew from Day One that I wanted this to be my last poem. It’s probably my favorite one I’ve ever written, and I’m incredibly proud of it.

Poetry Day #29

To the Best Friend I’m Leaving,

We both know we’re going.

Logically, we have to,

but it’s going to be hard,

and we know that too.

 

Our colleges are three hours apart,

close enough to see each other,

but far enough, we have to wonder:

will we make the effort?

 

I’m going to miss you.

I know you’ll miss me.

No one knows me as well as you,

and I don’t really want anyone to.

 

I’ll call you as much as I possibly can,

but we both worry it’ll devolve

into half-hearted texts

and two-second phone calls.

 

I’ll make new friends,

and so will you, but

part of my heart is permanently

labelled with your face and your smile.

 

I’m leaving you.

Let’s face it, and you’re leaving me,

but not behind, never behind,

because we’ll always be in each other’s minds.

Poetry Day #27

Cassandra

She sat in a tower, all alone.

Sure of what’s coming,

but no one can know.

Why won’t they listen?

If they listened, they’d live.

 

Some worldly power kept the flames

from her tower.

Her tears flowed fast enough

to put out the embers, but

that couldn’t bring her people back.

 

She sat in a tower all alone,

knowing what’s coming,

but no one can know.

She can’t fall asleep,

with the laughter coming round.

Poetry Day #26

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Bags packed by the back door,

Mom’s looking around to see if I missed any more.

Dad’s talking quietly,

to my little sister,

she’s clinging to our cat,

and begging me not to go.

 

I have to go though.

It’s time. It’s been time.

I committed in March,

we began prepping in May.

It’s August though.

I’m ready to go.

 

I feel awful leaving like this,

so I kneel down to her, and say:

“You have to be a big girl now,

Mom and Dad need you to be strong,

You can do it. Don’t prove me wrong.”

 

My bags are packed.

I’m ready to go.

Goodbyes have been said.

I’m heading for a tour of deserts and men,

where gunshots will ring in my ears,

and goodbyes may be forever.

So I take it back.

I say, “I love you, and I’ll see you later.”

I don’t want goodbye to be forever.

Poetry Day #25

Hello, Veins

She sees you far too often.

He sees you far too often.

Does she consider him a vampire,

because he has to take blood from her?

Does she understand that

he’s only trying to help her?

There’s no cure for what she has,

but it’s somewhere in her blood.

And he’s the unlucky nurse that

hurts her every day.

When he can see her smile,

and walk freely by herself,

and leave this place behind forever,

it will be worth it,

even if she hates him.

Poetry Day #24

Graceful

He moves,

nearly on the tips of his toes.

His arms reach toward the sky

in curved lines.

His head held high,

his smile soft and cheeky.

His foot points,

and steps onto stage.

Gracefully.

Poetry Day #23

Keep His Dinner Warm

I’ll keep his dinner warm,

while he’s away,

called into work again.

He’ll come home with a

weary expression on a tired face.

He’ll thank me,

and kiss my cheek,

but it didn’t go well,

and he can’t bring himself to eat.

 

He’s always on call.

I am too.

For him, a car crash calls him to work.

For me, a child gets kicked out of home.

 

He’ll get up in the night

to wash his hands again.

There’s no blood on them,

but he can see something.

I wish he’d realize

it’s not his fault.

I bet he wishes

I wouldn’t blame myself

when we fail,

because we both fail sometimes.

We can’t save all of them.

Sometimes, the wounds are too deep.

Sometimes, they waited too long.

Sometimes, they don’t want to live.

Poetry Day #22

Purring

Saturday morning creeps in like fog,

the streaming sunshine suggests it’s later than morning,

a glance at the watch acknowledges it’s noon.

There’s this warm thing at the foot of the bed.

It’s purring, and wriggling,

and now it’s pouncing because a foot moved.

It better be the cat.