Transition

Well, the time has finally come to move. My lease is up, my landlady is giving me the eye and my suitcases are waiting, jaws wide, to be filled. I'm ready to move...I've been living in this house for two years and it's soaked up all the memories that it can bear! I've been packing for two weeks without much of a noticeable dent in the masses of STUFF I have in my apartment...Just today do I feel some sort of payoff for the weeks of inching through rooms filled with piles of furniture, clothing and papers! I am proud to announce that I can see my floor! In fact, I have an entire room emptied! It feels wonderful. To the left is my current work space. When I saw all the floor space I couldn't help but break into a dance, complete with leaps and mid air spins. Ahhhh...sweet space. Now, on to the next room!!

From Urban Ministry.org

Human Trafficking: Definition, Prevalence, and Causes

"Human trafficking -- the sale, transport and profit from human beings who are forced to work for others -- is the modern equivalent of slavery. Against their will, millions of people around the world are forced to work for the profit of others, for example by begging, prostitution, involuntary servitude, working in sweatshops - even becoming child soldiers.

According to the Polaris Project, one of many international organizations working to end modern slavery, human trafficking is the third largest criminal industry in the world after arms and drug dealing. It is however the fastest growing criminal activity: somewhere in the order of 27 million people around the world are estimated to be victims of slavery, with approximately 50% of these victims being under the age of 18. In other words, children. UNICEF, the UN's agency for children's welfare, estimates that one million children will be forced into prostitution alone this year."

The customer

It had to be in the dark
The dark
In the night, in the city
Deep in the city.
Where no one would hear the screams of a child
Deep in the city.
He walks with his coat collar up
Hiding his face in the dark
The dark.
And his feet pound the rhythm of dark
Along with his heart.
He walked with a shadow to cloak his intent
His intent
From his darling wife and son
His dear dear wife.
And the city around his closes its eyes
They all close their eyes
As he walks in the dark
Deep in the city
Right up to a faded door.

STOP.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
CREEEEEEAAAK.
Dim light spills like diry oil across the pavement
Smearing across his face
His clean shaven face.
He steps through the doorway and into a room
A room
A small filthy square that smells like hell.
And he’s led by a nod towards a girl
A girl.
And he moves slowly towards the girl in the corner.
He lifts her face like a gentle father,
A father.
And he knows he could be her father
-She’s only 14.
But he’s not here to save her.
Live a vice of cold iron his hand clamps her arm
And together
They…
Walk…
To the sagging stained mattress.
He pushes her up against the wall
The wall
And lets her fall to the ground at his feet.
The click of his belt buckle sounds loud in the dark
The dark.
And her whimper is lost in the dark.

Ruthless fire of his lust has burned away her name
And she is not human to him
As he cruelly thrusts himself into her
To hear her scream.
And the scent of her tears and blood makes him high
With the feeling of power.
And he beats her until he is tired.

He rises.
Buttons his shirt.
He leaves the door open as he exits the room
And dim light falls on her body
The child
As she lays like stone on the sagging stained
Matttess.

Small bills are exchanged
As he walks into the night
The night.
And breathes in the dark and lights up a cig
As he walks under bridges and down empty streets.

Up to a white painted door he strides
Wipes his shoes on the mat that welcomes him.
And he unlocks the door and check the mailbox
And walks into his house
His home.
He eats the last piece of cake in the fridge
Then brushes his teeth and crawls into bed
Into the arms
Of his wife
His dear dear wife.

The White Rabbit

Dear snowy thing-
You’re leading me into the darkness with your scarlet eyes.
Leading me in dizzying pink circles
until I fall to my knees in frustration.
You always hide yourself in the hellish nakedness of uncertainty!
I touched your tail
And got lost in a forest.
I felt your whiskers
And was encased in ice.

I have linked arms with Alice and Neo
In the search for the smiling white rabbit.

What goads this motley trio to follow you?
Alice fell and Neo said yes-
I simply took one step.
…Spontaneously we chose...
Now we drop like gasping babies
From the shield of the womb
Hoping to discover a deeper reality.
What will we find down these rabbit holes?

I hope to find myself.


Sweet rabbit-
How cruelly you toy
How lightly you play, with my identity!

Though the step before the fall takes forever
-Eternity compressed into 7 and a half inches!-
I’ll hit the bottom in a second.

Moonlight Night

Questioned

On a starry night-

With starry eyes-

She looks through blackened branches.

On a moonlit night-

With brimming heart-

She fiercely asks for hope.

 

 And on the foamy clouds-

Sail boats of dying leaves.

 As brittle black arms rustle

With a crackling song of fall.

And in the muddled flashes

Of the long hours of the day-

Gold lies sharp

Against crook’d ebony trees.

 

So she lays her cheek

Against the rough skin of life

And listens for a heartbeat-

Listens for the beat

Of life.

Murals, oh joy!

So i designed a community mural for a homeless food pantry and they liked it! YESSS! Dream come true...art and non-profit organizations. I'm so excited...There are a few changes i need to make to it, but it's basically done. I'll post a pic once it's all painted. 

Abby's Table by:ME! Dec. 2008

Searchlights

When I turn my eyes,

To a page of words-

Like bright metallic searchlights-

They come alive.

 

Like little leeches searching for blood,

They smell out my darkness.

They gather round the fog in my brain

And pierce it with their voices.

I hear their sing-song truths

Muttering in my ear.

 

And with the sudden realization

That I am exposed,

I am falling through air as thick as honey,

Wondering how the cliff

was only a step behind me.

My thoughts crash

Through a sinister roadblock

 built too high to flow around.

 

Breathless.

Stunned.

Devastated.

…And so thankful that I can SEE.

 

A Splash of Orange

Darla had never been considered daring. She was 5 ft. 1, had long brown hair, grey eyes and a very small mouth. She lived in a small apartment, worked in a small restaurant, received a small paycheck and dreamed small dreams. She had worked in Benny’s Diner for 6 years and never been promoted to “Head Waitress” though she’d always longed for it. Her most memorable time with a boy was when, in high school, Thomas Stratbottom had taken her out for coffee at the “Yellow Chicken Café”. Her favorite color was brown. Needless to say she was not the most noticeable person in a crowd and was often stepped on, sat on and bumped into.
The first time Darla had seen it, she had been breathlessly running to work because her morning bus had been terribly late. She’d just banged into a man and was apologizing profusely when it caught her eye. She’d stopped and stared, suddenly oblivious to time and the fear of her boss’s quick temper. It was not supposed to be there and yet…it was. Then she’d shaken herself out of her trance, apologized once more to the man and made a mad dash for the door of the restaurant she worked in. After that it had been pushed from Darla’s mind by a flood of work. It was only late on a Saturday morning that she’d remembered it. Donning her thick brown coat and arming herself with a mug of hot coffee, she strolled downtown to see if it was still there. And it was. Stunned she bent down for a closer look.
The flower was a vivid and daring orange that fascinated the eye and stood out glaringly against the towering grey city that surrounded it. Tentatively she brushed the silky petals with her finger to reassure herself of its reality. How it had grown between the slabs of cement she could not think. How it had survived the passing of thousands of feet was even harder to explain. It was the sole plant on the block. 
She stood as thoughts cascaded through her mind. It was a very beautiful flower, she decided. It stood proudly, surrounded by dead concrete and haunted by scuffed shoe souls. When she looked at the flower, a feeling that had been lost for so long it burned returned to her heart. Her breath quickened and she lifted her head.
Individuality. Her grey eyes glowed with desire for it. Plans leapt into her head. First she would quit her job. Benny’s diner was no place for her! Then she would go to that fashionable store a block down and buy the red coat with the purple sash and a few pairs of stilettos. She’d cut her hair short and curl it and perhaps even streak it with blonde! Then she’d sign up for dance lessons with that dashing Italian man. And then-
A large bustling woman in a red coat with a purple sash bowled into her. “You pathetic little freak!” she screeched, “Move! I need to go! I’m late for my dance lessons with Armando Fisoni.” She shoved Darla bodily out of the way, smoothed her cropped curly hair and stalked off, her stilettos clicking on the sidewalk. Darla gazed after her, mouth open. Then she turned, yanked the orange flower from the cement and flung it away. With a sigh of relief she opened the door to Benny’s diner and walked in

He knew

God.
When you found me,
I was alone with Myself.

I looked at my smiling face
I was so tired.
I knew I’d failed-
I knew I was empty.
Fierce anger rushed up inside me.
I slapped my face 
Threw myself down to the dirt
ripped my skin with my nails
Tore Myself up in an agonized fury.

And as I destroyed Myself,
I wept.
Cause I was so frail beneath my hands.

I was made of forced confidence
Sewn hastily with self preservation
And laugher.
Thrown together overnight 
In a desperate attempt to be strong
When there was only fear to face.
I knew I didn’t know what to do.
I didn’t have any answers.
I lived off Myself
Until there was nothing left except a hollow laugh. 

I knew.

When Myself was dead-
when the one I’d depended on was gone-
I saw what I had done.
And pulled her body to my chest
And screamed 
As sorrow swept through me 
in a scalding torrent I couldn’t escape.


You came to me then.
When my hands were covered
in my own blood-
when my despair and isolation were killing me
as I cradled the remains of a person I’d tried to be.
It was then you came.

You pried my hands from the mangled corpse.
You carried me away as I wept on your chest-
As I ruined your shirt with my tears and blood.
But you held me
And you knew, you knew, you knew!
You understood.
And I realized it
When I felt your tears on my cheeks.
We cried.
Together.
No sorrow can withstand the touch of my God.
His gentle hand
Draws away the pain
Like a sponge 
He shares it all.
He knows, he knows, he knows.

I’ve never found freedom
Like the kind I found
Lying in God’s arms.

Broken

Dear God.
What world am I living in?
Too broken to rise, too empty to care.

Where is beauty?
She’s a dead woman
Ruined and repainted
-sold cheap at every corner.

Where is compassion?
Buried under flesh-
Under the gushing fat of Comfort
Slowly gutted to death
By the smiling excuses of Self love.

Where is Justice?
Hidden in heavy chains of cowardice
And irresponsibility
Poisoned by the pretty words and no action
That drip from mouths

Where is truth?
Screaming in the torture chamber of the world
Stretched and twisted beyond recognition.
To relieve guilt and satisfy desires

We are lost when we forget how to mourn.
When we look and turn away!
When we slash our own eyes out
To stop seeing reality

IT IS THEN
That we die.

Do you think you’re alive for yourself?

No.
I was not made blind to pain.
I was not made to be deaf to the cries of the helpless.
I am not here on this planet to TAKE.
Or gain.

I am here to go lower!
I am here to give everything up.
I am here to be broken
And weep as I realize 
What we’ve lost.

But also to heal
through the power of a God 
that has not abandoned me to myself.
To conquer death.
To end emptiness.

Where is God?
Inside you. 

Childhood

Searching through shredding memories,
In the attic of my mind,
I can vaguely see into troubled eyes;
The child I used to be.

Then
I am her...
Tousled hair is in my eyes.
My bare feet fly over hot ground
While baggy clothing flips in the heavy air.

Minority child-
Pale among the rich colors of the tropics.
Lonely child-
With a tongue of American lead.
Funny child-
A thousand eyes chase me home.
Hidden child-
Locked beneath her skin.

Who can comfort the child with no home?
What a sorry child.
Who knows the rituals of airplanes
Better than those of her culture?

So scared of speaking
She gave up the privilege
Of owning a voice.
So scared of being seen
Yet terrified of being forgotten.

Naivety is lost
In the torn battlefield
Of a child’s conflicted mind.
Scarred wisdom
No one else cares to have
Is forced upon the young traveler.

New Eyes

Fly with me-
Tumble into my world .
May your eyes see,
What each person has to hold.
May your eyes see,
The color in grey.
May your blacks be purple and blue!

Run with me-
Into the heart of the ruins.
Let us find, 
The seeds of green.
Let us find,
The last glowing ember
Of the raging fire of life.

Search with me-
Among the bones of the dead.
And we’ll sing,
A chord of hope
And we’ll sing,
The lilting song 
Of passion and birth.

Essence

Small feet lift from the floor and into the air
Small hands are flitting from breast to cheek
She spins the web of artistry
Around the glowing ember of life
Swirling white strands of light cling to the darkened fire
An alter of vibrant strands 
Woven from the essence of human creativity
Dance into one another
Fall into one another
Embrace one another
In the race to become one
Cling to me, cling to each other
Don’t become lost in the dark
Don’t become lost
We have none
None.

Girl

Can you see her eyes?
They stare into me with midnight intensity-
A dark moon risen in a sky of gold and turquoise.
Never ending universe in one person-
Oh what your tears contain!
Each one has a soul of it’s own.

Stillness

Running heart...
Like a trembling bird,
You flee touch.
You startle at the sound of approaching feet.

I hop from foot to foot,
Grounded and anxious.

Capture me.
Cup me in your hands-
And in your eyes,
The storm becomes a breeze.
In your eyes,
I see my own flight.
You are my stillness.

Kiss

Falling, Falling-
Free fall into rigid pattern.
You lie in the sheets of gold,
Among the tumbling waves of cloth.
Heady sun rays
Filter through dust and pane.
And eyes that brim with amber light,
Hunger for New Hope's kiss.

Chintz

Behind Chintz plates,
dust laces faded wood
with dainty particles-
Where is the bread?

Behind red doors,
Empty chairs hover
Around varnished tables-
Where is the bread?

Behind dark eyes,
A broken child hopes
he can be a man-
Where is the bread?

It left with my father.

Sketching 2008

Love

Numbness

Peace

Anger detail

Anger

Sketching 2008

Sketching 2008

Sketching 2008

Sketching 2008