As hung on the closet door in my living room.
Electromagnetism (or, When We Met)
[an erasure. click HERE to read full prose poem]
Sanguine Heart
Part 1
I am not a pink
girl. Red is my color
no need to dilute,
add white to temper down
my intensity.
If we friends,
you already know:
I’m passion incarnate—
red is the color of love
& I got nothin but love
for ya (baby ;)
Part 2
I temper down my color
with color:
red + orange = red orange
red orange + yellow =
outrageous orange* = me
on fire, energy bursting manic
you can’t help but feel it
ignite the red in you—
enkindles light/in your heart
smile spark, laughter soothes
any fires burning blue in you—
whatever’s got ya flushed
got ya mad in yr heart,
got that choler boiling hot—
ain’t no thang, if
you got red in you, too.
If you got blood in your veins,
ya got hope. Tap that
sanguine air—
breathe blue sky in, feel
your belly expand,
spark light in ya heart,
smile on yr face. Hug
your favorite Libra & laugh;
feel that sanguine smile, that
sanguine hope, that confidence
seeded deep in your core:
that’s the red in you—the love.
Feel it warm in your breast;
let it glow—
a beacon, a guidepost
to spark smiles, give
the only gift that matters.
Be Wary
Be wary of those
who refuse to pinky promise;
they be comrades with those
whose trip wires trigger fast.
Be wary of their promises
fickle like those who trigger
past — trenchant into battle zones,
quick to spit fire, red hot
burn scars.
Dear Proud Tinder Girl
Dear Proud-Tinder-Girl-Who-Clicked-“Unmatch”—JustLikeThat!
Fuck yeah you did it! The red flags glaring, you called them out and bounced. Didn’t it feel great? Didn’t it feel amazing to back-hand compromise?! Remember that surprise when you realized the power of control, felt the strength potent in your chakras—the heat rising from your root, ignited your manipura and heart so fire that your throat unfettered wailed ~ I wanna dance with somebody ~ as you danced your way down the street, ecstatic to be dancing with yourself. Ever mindful, you literally felt your third eye open and wise to the breakthrough, light burst through your crown and you witnessed an evolution between choruses ~ Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me! ~ when you realized the power in loving yourself.
Remember all of this—hold tight to those bodily sensations until your muscle memory holds them stable, til you’re rock-steady in your worth. Do this and you will find yourself in Oz wearing the ruby slippers and riding a horse of a different color into every sunset. Be sure to wave hello to The Wizard, nod him Namaste, but trust that you do not need his help—you are enough and everything.
Enjoy today & always,
Raina
Writer's Math
Things only have the worth you assign them; therefore:
You = a thing = the worth you assign to You.
You = a life = a collection of days = a thing = the worth You assign to each day.
#embraceandengageagency
Real Talk for a Night & Always an Evolution
...I know I'm not even close to a *ping* on your radar, but when I come across you on FB/IG, my radar sounds and I can't help but think of you. I think about seeing you at X and the obligatory hello you gave with the not-so-subtle vibe that smelled of no-I'm-not-interested--not-even-in-conversation. And then I think of the day and the night of YZ's failure of a surprise—and how my anxiety grew roots all day and blossomed once all of the oxygen imploded—and how not you or any other person who helped plan the party was there for me while I spiraled in and out of hyperventilated sobs, closed behind my bedroom door while my home was full of people—and how not only did none of you check in on me let alone help, but instead talked shit behind my back while standing huddled around my kitchen sink. And how you especially hardcore failed me, when you should've been the one person who cared enough to place your palm on my back. Yes, I realize there was more, but not really. It was all my anxiety. And while you write and perform your knowledge of PTSD on stages and preach about the compassion needed to overcome, you offer/ed me none. But instead look past me with an insulting indifference when our paths align for a night. And whether social media thrusts you in my face or we meet IRL, it hurts despite time passing, cuz you still sexy as hell and I'm still full of heart and always an evolution.
The Beginning
2018 whispered and flashed The Beginning across the black screen in my brain, like light
onto film. An explosion, the light like glitter embers turned quick to ash / residue blurred
the print, but the film / still captured / my interest.
The Beginning stewed like garlic in oil with brown rice and chicken stock basil, and all I
could do was wait until the rice devoured the garlic before lifting the lid—let time and
patience develop the film—
A body in motion stays in motion and morning cake is finger cake. But I don’t have to
tell everyone so. It will be / because it is, and they will see or they won’t / The Beginning
with glitter embers—one step closer to an opportunity that just might.
Today, On Understanding Thanks
Today, I may possibly feel more grateful than I have ever felt, for I am grateful for myself—content in spending the day with Frankie, free of anxiety and triggers of need. For this watershed moment, I am thankful for the progress my mother and I continue to make, speaking honestly and hearing each other with only love in our hearts; for the friends and colleagues who have supported me and known since our beginnings that I wished for nothing but joy and honesty. And today, I wonder if this is what self-love feels like—and if it is, I am so grateful to have found it.
A Quincy Night in Chi
When I pour a second glass,
white and crisp
like this August night—
one floor below
bumps Biggie
through a line-up of new
millennium hiphop,
proclaimed in a high-pitch,
fem-male voice— "This soong
brings me back
to sophomore year
in high school, when..."
I was fucking one of the Quincy B
boys—they'd always play
this track Friday n Saturday nights
when our college house
rocked the smell of Tangueray
and Bud Light.
But tonight,
I hit my bowl
sip like a swig
and write.