Happy and Safe Pride

In honor of Pride Month and celebrating all of the amazing human beings, in their struggled to be themselves, live fully, and be safe from violence and oppression, I’m doing all I can to support LGBTQ+ writers and poets. Listed below are a group of wonderful authors and their work that you should check out. If you can buy from them directly do, and leave positive reviews if you have some to give. Each one is an opportunity to learn, to grow, to understand and to find connection. Not just this month, but every month. Enjoy and be the loving force for change you want to see in the world.

  • One Day I Will Write About This Place: A Memoir by Binyavanga Wainaina
  • As Beautiful as Any Other: A Memoir of My Body by Kaya Wilson
  • La Bâtarde by Violette Leduc, translated by Derek Coltman
  • The Truth About Me: a Hijra Life Story by A. Revathi, translated by V Geetha
  • The Sex Lives of African Women: Self-Discovery, Freedom, and Healing by Nana Darkoa Sekyiamah
  • The Pink Line: Journeys Across the World’s Queer Frontiers by Mark Gevisser
  • Modern Nature by Derek Jarman
  • My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness by Nagata Kabi, translated by Jocelyne Allen
  • People Change by Vivek Shraya
  • Asylum: A Memoir & Manifesto by Edafe Okporo
  • Welcome to St. Hell: My Trans Teen Misadventure by Lewis Hancox
  • We Have Always Been Here: A Queer Muslim Memoir by Samra Habib
  • Dear Senthuran: A Black Spirit Memoir by Akwaeke Emezi
  • The Other Side of Paradise by Staceyann Chin
  • Red Azalea by Anchee Min
  • Me Hijra, Me Laxmi by Laxminarayan Tripathi, translated by PG Joshi and R. Raj Rao
  • They Called Me Queer compiled by Kim Windvogel and Kelly-Eve Koopman
  • Unicorn: The Memoir of a Muslim Drag Queen by Amrou Al-Kadhi
  • Angry Queer Somali Boy: A Complicated Memoir by Mohamed Abdulkarim Ali
  • Thérèse and Isabelle by Violette Leduc, translated by Sophie Lewis (1966)
  • Maurice by EM Forster (1971)
  • Orlando: A Biography by Virginia Woolf (1928)
  • America is Not the Heart by Elaine Castillo
  • Hotel World by Ali Smith
  • Less by Sean Andrew Greer
  • The Price of Salt aka Carol by Patricia Highsmith
  • Valencia by Michelle Tea
  • Under the Udala Trees by Chinelo Okparanta
  • Paper is White by Hilary Zaid
  • Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg.
  • Orlando by Virginia Woolf
  • Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin
  • Sodom Road Exit by Amber Dawn
  • Angels in America: A Gay Fantasia on National Themes by Tony Kushner
  • Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg
  • The Book of Salt by Monique Truong
  • Tea by Stacey D’Erasmo
  • Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters
  • Alice Isn’t Dead by Joseph Fink
  • Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson
  • Marriage of A Thousand Lies by SJ Sindu
  • Nightwood by Djuna Barnes
  • Tales of the City by Armistead Maupin
  • Close to Spider Man by Ivan E. Coyote
  • Jack Holmes and His Friend by Edmund White
  • A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood
  • Fruit by Brian Francis
  • Salt Fish Girl by Larissa Lai
  • Morrow Island by Alexis M. Smith
  • Pages for You by Sylvia Brownrigg
  • Confucius Jane by Katie Lynch
  • Little Fish by Casey Plett
  • Such a Lonely, Lovely Road by Kagiso Lesego Molope
  • She of the Mountains by Vivek Shraya
  • For Today I Am A Boy by Kim Fu
  • The Color Purple by Alice Walker
  • Rubyfruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown
  • Disoriental by Négar Djavadi
  • Speak No Evil by Uzodinma Iweala
  • The Life and Death of Sophie Stark by Anna North
  • Never Anyone But You by Rupert Thomson
  • Hood by Emma Donoghue
  • Blue Boy By Rakesh Satyal
  • My Education by Susan Choi
  • Here Comes The Sun by Nicole Dennis-Benn
  • Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz
  • We Are Okay by Nina LaCour
  • Summer of Salt by Katrina Leno
  • 48 Shades Of Brown by Nick Earls
  • Call Me by Your Name by André Aciman (2007)
  • The Language We Were Never Taught to Speak by Grace Lau
  • Butcher by Natasha T. Miller
  • Water I Won’t Touch by Kayleb Rae Candrilli
  • The Renunciations by Donika Kelly
  • Bestiary by Donika Kelly
  • Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl by Andrea Lawlor
  • You Better Be Lightning by Andrea Gibson
  • Lord of the Butterflies by Andrea Gibson
  • Black Girl, Call Home by Jasmine Mans
  • Black Queer Hoe by Britteney Black Rose Kapri
  • If They Come for Us by Fatimah Asghar
  • Nothing is Okay by Rachel Wiley
  • Cenzontle by Marcelo Hernández Castillo
  • The Tradition by Jericho Brown
  • Soft Science by Franny Choi
  • Bodymap by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha
  • Night Sky With Exit Wounds by Ocean Vuong
  • When the Chant Comes by Kay Ulanday Barrett
  • More Than Organs by Kay Ulanday Barrett
  • Don’t Call Us Dead by Danez Smith
  • Things You Left Behind by Keondra Bills Freemyn
  • Femme in Public by Alok Vaid-Menon
  • Wild Embers by Nikita Gill
  • Chelsea Girls by Eileen Myles (1994)

BOOKS: POETRY

Advice on The Next Year

(As if she knew enough to tell anyone else what to do with their life…)

I am, by no means, an expert in life. I have failed at it before in so many ways. I’ve made lots of messy mistakes, and will probably do so again, at least once a year for the rest of the time given me. So–feel free to close out of this blog with a knowing roll of your eyes.

Or…

Hang with me for a minute, and let’s talk. Listen, I know that this world and this life feels like a hot mess sitting on top of an explosive train wreck, parked next to a puppy store and children’s hospital. There are large, capitalistic forces beyond our control, churning out profitable war machines, and rising costs. Famine, disease, environmental ruin… There’s very little that can be done by one person. Except…

Except what we can do.

Here’s my humble advice:

Photo by Karol D on Pexels.com
  • Stay healthy. Eat well, cut out poisonous shit (alcohol, drugs, etc), keep your body moving, and mediate. Read books, lots of them, from lots of sources and lots of topics.
  • When you indulge in news, chose a reputable source, and shun any ‘breaking news’ sensationalism. Your attention to the world’s needs and troubles isn’t for sale.
  • Do something that scares you. No, I’m not talking driving off a cliff, or anything that’s hurtful. I mean, ask for that promotion, take that class, talk to that girl, write that book, quit that job, leave that jerk. Do it.
  • Do something that feeds your bigger self. Everybody has a passion, no matter how silly or fanciful others find it. Fuck others. Do your silly. Embrace that hobby, that joy, that interest. Do something that makes you lose track of time for the engagement it brings you.
  • Understand and embrace that your passion, your creativity, doesn’t need to be monetized to be worthwhile. It does not have to be sold to justify its existence.
  • Be kind in all things. Studies have shown that when we are kind to others, it releases oxytocin into our system. That’s the feel good snuggly chemical that we’re all short on. It helps us bond and relate. It helps us connect. In a real way, not just by clicking a ‘like’ button. People who care for others, speak out for others, stand up for others. Understand that other’s rights are our rights too.
  • Limit your time in imaginary, algorithm cesspools and echo chambers. Seriously. Set a timer for your social media scrolling. I know its part of many of our jobs, but so are spreadsheets, and we don’t spend any more time on those than absolutely necessary. Spreadsheets are better for you than social media. And if you knew how much I fucking hate spreadsheets, you’d know I mean business on this one.
  • Get outside. In the cold, in the wind, in the heat and the dark. The human body was built to experience the particular stimulations of the outside environment. We need sun. We need the far away stares into mountains and parks. We need shivers and sweating. We need to feel the earth under our feet and the sharp skin of tree bark. We need it. We came from it. We should cherish it while it’s still here.
  • Self Care is important but SO IS COMMUNITY CARE. Hate to break it to you, little meat suit, but you’re not the be-all, end-all of the world. Yes, you are important, but you are only as important as the community you build and support. You do not survive alone and the self-care craze has turned a bit too self-important and self-centered. You are not above the suffering of others when you have the capacity to help. Take care of yourself, but take care of others too. We all lean on each other to survive. And on that note…
  • VOTE. While we still have a democracy to vote in. You laugh but… we are dangerously close to a dictatorship. We already are muddling through an oligarchy of waaaaaay-too old leaders dictating policy and laws based on ideals of 60 years ago, that serve the ruling class (white, male, rich, christian). They were able to stack the supreme court so we can no longer feel safe that our democracy is being held in check and balanced with common sense. See above notes about…be kind in all things (including voting for issues that affect humans’ rights and quality of life) and participating in community care (what’s best for those most disenfranchised will eventually be best for us all)
  • Protest. If every worker, every woman, every unrecognized majority member were to stand up and walk out… on their imposed ‘places’, on their below-wage jobs, on their prison-pipline school systems, this country would grind to a fucking halt. This country NEEDS to grind to a halt. This country needs to be reminded that shareholder needs mean jack shit when there aren’t workers to keep the economy rolling. This country NEEDS to recognize that unpaid labor, income disparity, childcare fleecing, education suppression and the harassment and abuse of over half its population is no longer tolerable. Money should never outweigh the betterment of humanity.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In short. Next year should scare the shit out of you. Because you’re going to try all kinds of new things. To be seen, to be heard, to heal the downtrodden, and to heal yourself. You’re going to learn things about the world that have been hidden by your echo chambers and sensational ‘journalism’. You’re going to have to step out of your house to meet people and learn about them. You’re going to have to constantly push boundaries.

It will be scary to try new things, scary to speak out. It will seem pointless and fruitless, unless we can all do it together. Because maybe… maybe if we stand up to be brave, whether in protest of policy, or in defense of our own happiness and health, it will ignite the fire in someone else, and in someone else…and in someone else.

Until…by the end of next year, our one candle will have lit an unprecedented inferno.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Poetry 9-22-22

Today’s poem was written on the night that Roe vs. Wade was cancelled out by a strange and uneven balance in our country. After a certain Senator’s insistence that it should be made Federal Law…I thought it was time to bring it out.

I know the opinion differs but I think that we can all agree that the moment a human being’s own body is controlled by the government (made mostly of white and extremely privileged men) it is a bad turn of events. Any study of history tells us that when women are subjugated, the downfall of the society as a whole is not far behind.

So here’s a poem. If you’re offended, good. I hope you fucking are. Because if you’re offended a small part of you must recognize that it’s not your place, nor the governing body to tell any human that any one part of their biology is more important than their own life/dreams/heart/health/future. Any person with half a brain knows that being able to plan for and want a child means a happier, healthier and more productive society.

So read on. Or don’t. Write me a demeaning, threatening letter to prove that you really don’t actually care for human life and I’ll share it on the blog along with your email address. Share this with anyone who should know that they won’t stand alone as long as we all stand together.

And fuck Lindsey Graham…

I Fight

So this is for you

piggy tails and pink shirts

mohawks and punk rock and

discoverers of self

I fight for you

regardless of the future you envision

I fight for your right to choose it

To every mother,

daughter,

born daughter is a son

sister

aunt

grandmother

friend

I fight for your dreams

for the ideas and schemes

still settling in your soul

bigger than birthing babies

bigger than your womb

I fight for your life

when these things

turn toxic and would destroy you

if kept inside

I fight for your right to be human

to matter, beyond

your ability to propagate the species

You are not a broodmare

Not a human baby mill

You are greater than your single-cells

You are infinite and divine

and I fight for you

I will never stop fighting for you

for us

after eons of being

the ones denounced

and abused

the ones controlled

out of fear of our powerful force

to create

our strength in the long and

grinding trials of pain

out of the truth that we are greater

and more powerful

than they have ever aspired

I fight for our divinity

which caused them to put our faces

to the ground and

write religious texts

denouncing our evil natures

to keep us beneath,

out of need to control

the uncontrollable beauty

of life and power residing

not just in our bodies

but in our souls

For we were Lilith before we were eve

and we are divine

and our wombs are their birth places

and we are the power that seduces

and survives

and so we are not powerless

and I will fight for you

I will fight for me

I will fight

though I am tired

and I am worn thin and

I am hurt

and I am tired of fighting this fight

over and over

and over

souls and lives

the same battle since long ago

Still,

I will rise, again, and again,

to fight for every person,

born with a uterus,

that should be treated first

as a human

and never

as a maker of more insignificant men

hell bent on the destruction

of all that is more

than they can ever be.

Humans are Assholes

Photo by elifskies on Pexels.com

Yep. That’s where I’m going today. I know this blog is primarily about writing, but it’s also a blog about living. And in the course of living this past week I’ve come to the ultimate conclusion that humans, by and large, are assholes. You can argue the point. I admit there are some good ones out there…but as our society ‘progresses’ I swear I’m witnessing an overturn of kindness and compassion into a collective settling of “me-first” assholeness.

From people honking behind you if you pause too long at an intersection, to those that sprain your wrist in karate class because you threatened their fragile ego. To those judgmental mothers who raise judgmental daughters who body shame other girls, in the same nasty way it has always been since long before I was born, because we’re so caught up in tearing each other down that we don’t realize how much powerful we’d be if we built each other up.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

To those spewing venom on the internet, raging in hateful and hurtful ways without stopping to listen to their own disgusting thought-vomit long enough to ask if it’s truthful. To the creators of those social media worlds that know the beast they’ve created is addictive and harmful, a veritable cesspool of useless and divisive vitriol that has been proven to be suicide-inducing, yet charge ahead anyway because the pay is sweet and the power sweeter.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

To the world that’s declining around us, fires and drought, floods and monsoons, dead coral reefs and decimated animal populations, the earth itself dying a little more every day, racing headlong into environmental destruction.

To the countries that slaughter and enslave women. To our own that treats women as if they were only good for being incubators and objects of desire (really only a step up from the aforementioned countries).

To the drug epidemic, our addiction to technology, poverty, wars we shouldn’t fight, battles we can’t win, politicians (career assholes) who care more about being reelected than they do about what they accomplish towards the common good…

Man, with this slew of examples, what subset of assholery does one even pick to write about? Humans have so many veins of douchery to tap into, I just don’t think I can choose one. All of this has settled like heavy sediment inside my skull and I have little room to breathe in any creativity. I have little room to breathe at all. It’s no wonder people purposefully walk away from it all, permanently or otherwise.

Who wants to live with a bunch of assholes?

Photo by Julia Volk on Pexels.com

Poetry, Humanity, Gravel and Gold.

Listen Kids. We’ve been going hard at it now for the past few months all about writing theory, types of writing, how to write, what to write, and on and on and on and on…

Today is the last Thursday before the election and it has been a crazy past few months. To that end, I would like to offer you a little bit more of the Beautiful portion of The Beautiful Stuff.

There are no exercises to do, no work-in-progress to compare and tweak.

No Bullet Lists

Just a poem or two I wrote while camped out in the Rocky Mountains for a few days, re-evaluating my writing and, in part, my life.

I hope you find repose in the next week or two. I hope you weigh what is good, and just, and right for all of our citizens. I hope you vote with the conscience of someone who cares for their fellow human beings and all of our quality of life. I hope you vote.

When it’s done I hope you can let the last few years of hatred and divisiveness go. Put it down. Reach across the chasm that was created by small-minded men seeking to destroy unity and human decency. Those who grew their power by pitting us against one another.

I hope you can find rest. I hope you can find beauty. I hope you find your voice and you use it to stand up against injustice, stand up for your fellow human beings, and stand together against hatred.

Photo by Lisa Fotios on Pexels.com

Here it is. Poetry

More Gravel Than Gold

I hope that heaven’s streets,

are more gravel than gold.

That the armaments are granite peaks

and the angels’ song,

quaking aspen.

I hope that heaven’s throng is more full

of friends than the righteous.

That the memories of Grandma’s hands

will be photos regained in focus.

I hope that heaven is made of home

more porch swing and creek than opulent spire.

That they’re waiting to hear my tires in the driveway

and they’ll rush out with soapy hands

warm hugs

and how was the drive?

I hope that heaven’s streets

are more gravel than gold

And we’ll meet there together

on the porch, beside the hush of river,

telling tales of the journey in.