Revised: An Empty Love Letter

I just revised this poem. I revised it because after reading it with fresh eyes I realized that it needed something else, it needed a facelift, a poetic facelift.

I am going to try and practice what I learned at The Martha’s Vineyard Institute of CreativeWriting.

I was fortunate enough to attend this program a few weeks ago and I learned so much.

I came home with a new found enthusiasm to work on my poetry and short stories. So this is my first revision of an old post.

via An Empty Love Letter

Music Mondays: Changes

Change starts with you! Remember your history as a warning, learn from the lessons of the past. Changes start with people like us-it is up to us to make things all right.

 

 

Dear Lady Liberty

Dear Lady Liberty,

As you stand in the harbor watching over our nation, I imagine the tears falling down your face. I imagine your heart has been broken by the problems we have created. I imagine that as you are standing in the harbor you are watching how we systematically kill your children.  Today, you are the figure of a mother burying her children.

We will destroy the liberty and freedom we fought to create over the years. Marches occurred to fight for our rights, but overnight we seemed to forget the power “We the people” have. We continue to marginalize groups of people because they are different.

We have forgotten our past and ignored our history. We have tried to erase it. We have ignored the wound and now it is infected, and I apologize. Lady Liberty. I apologize for not taking care of your children or valuing the idea of freedom and liberty.

I apologize for the lack of effort to promote unity.

I am sorry.

I will apologize to you when the rest of the nation is in turmoil. I apologize while everyone else ignores that movements and moments start at home.

I have hope that we learn how to respect our differences. I hope that we will not forget our past. I hope, that we learn how to improve our future. I hope that as a nation, we figure out how to move forward together.

I hope that as the turmoil subsides we learn that we all must be part of the solution. Sitting by is no longer an option. I hope that we learn that small actions matter just as much and large ones.  I hope that we realize that change starts and ends with our efforts We have to stand up and move forward together.

We cannot forget the harsh truth of our past.  The hurt and pain we have faced as a nation. We cannot forget how you, Lady Liberty, witnessed what we have become as a nation. How we have built ourselves up by oppression. You watch how we beat down on others just to build up this American identity—an American identity which spans beyond the white skin or brown skin or yellow skin or tan skin, that any one of us possess. Our history is ugly, but our future can be great.

Our present should not be a movement to rewind the clock.

Lady Liberty, I extend my hand to offer you hope. All is not lost, but these are trying times.

I hope that I will leave a better nation for my children, for your children and all children.

I hope that we take back the power that we have been given as citizens and exercise our rights.

I hope that we understand.

Love,
Hopeful America

Copyright © Delia Marrero 2017 All rights reserved.

Let’s Share: Patricia Bell-Scott

Again, I am going to talk about another wonderful woman I met over the weekend at this writing conference I attended.

Patricia Bell-Scott, I don’t even have words to describe the friendship that emerged. She is an award winning published author and all around humble human being.

Please check out her website:

http://patriciabellscott.com/

Then purchase her newest book:

The Firebrand and the First Lady 

Music Monday’s

I forgot it was Monday and that I should be sharing some music. In the spirit of this weekend-here are my choices.

Notice the recurring theme!

Because I am a queen that thing goes on-and-on.

Let’s Share: Lisa St. John

You ever meet anyone who you instantly connect with? Someone who is amazing, happy and authentic. That is Lisa, I met her at a writer’s conference over the weekend and I cannot begin to tell you how kind she is. She touched my heart with her generosity and sincerity.

Check out her blog.

Oh, and her poetry because it is beautiful.

https://lisastjohnblog.com/about/

Let’s Share: Mary Beth

I made a new friend at a conference I attended over the weekend. Please stop by her and visit her blog. She was absolutely delightful and kind. She definitely had an infectious smile.

Happy Monday!

https://mbcoudal.com/about/

 

From blog to book: 5 things I learnt along the way

This is an excellent post. Well written and very insightful. Enjoy!

a gentleman and a scholar

On December 18th, 2015, I posted a blog entry: the option for my first book, Trans Like Me, had been picked up by Virago, for UK and Commonwealth publication. It’s a year and a half later – and I’ve been in bookstores for nearly a month, with American publication scheduled for next year with Seal Press.

Trans Like Me Side view

When I first began this blog, back in 2010, I never imagined that what I wrote and explored here would form the foundation of a book. I did want to write a book about gender – about being transgender in particular – but always figured it would be an academic text with a long and referential name. I’d seen people blogging with the express intention of getting a book deal, and wasn’t impressed – the results too often veered between transparent and inauthentic, and flat-out desperate.

But plans pan out in odd ways…

View original post 1,910 more words

Slow Days

There are some days that just drag on and on without any end in sight.

Is this statement dramatic? YUP! After all I am permitted, on occasion, to be extreme. What would life be without sporadic embellishments?

I am consumed by, well — at the moment nothing. I oft think about everything all at once with no end in sight. Typically, my mind runs off creating a series of many things while trying to maintain some semblance of sanity through the chaos.

As of late my mind is quiet.

The storm has quieted, quit, left, dispersed even.

The days seem slower and a little longer, but before I know it—it’s tomorrow.

Slow but quick —this my friends is what I am going to call an oxymoron-juxtaposing-phrase! And that is how I am quantifying the whole of my existences at the moment. The day goes on and then, changes with the blink of an eye, but continuously drags throughout time.

This too shall pass.

All things in life pass, everything changes , nothing is ever as it was before. Slow days pass too, they become fleeting moments when least expected.

Now, don’t get me wrong I rather enjoy this slow pace and thoughtless mind.

There was  a point in my life I was constantly on the go. Always doing something, running my kids here and there and I kept busy, so busy that I stressed myself out. That is the routine that all of us are trained to adhere to.  I was convinced that my life was supposed to be like that. I think we all think that we are supposed to be so busy that you should never have free time.

Somehow we believe that free time is bad.

I realize now that free time is what we all need. Slow days give you time to realize that our lives are insignificant fleeting moments in time. We should not waste the moments pretending, analyzing, rushing around, scheduling time with friend and overworking ourselves into the ground.

Be happy, silly, immature and love those who mean something to you because, in the end, we are all worm food. It does not matter if your casket is made of solid gold or a wooden box eventually your flesh will rot away and so will mine.

One day I will slowly return to the Earth and I don’t want to do so overworked and stressed. I want to know that I slowed down just enough to watch my daughters grow and laugh with them. I want to keep building memories with those who mean something to me and I am going to create my own way against the current of popular belief.

Enjoy every slow day you get!

 

 

 

Underneath My Pale Skin

Underneath my pale skin-

below this white concealment
the spirit of;

African beats;
Taino blood;
European conquest-
this is the Caribbean echo of my being;

The blood which flows-

Exposing this-
American identity.

 My history;
I recall-
The darker skins that preceded me.

The caramel flesh my daughters possess; the tangled hair that sits on their head
a mixed tone of inclusion;
Identify my Afro-Caribbean-Indian-European mix.

Rhythmic drums,
pounding out the tears,
of the island’s sing-song melody.

Composed with time;
two worlds collide;
to produce the American in me.