Tuesday, December 25, 2012

On 2012...(Merry Christmas)

With the year coming to an end, it's no surprise that one would want to look back at the year and see what could have gone better, what didn't go as badly as one thought, and what opportunities could have or should not have been taken. This won't be quite as cheesy and self-involved as it could be, but it's pretty darn close.

My year has been crazy. Just over a year ago, my mother was diagnosed with stage 1 breast cancer. This whole year has been about her recovery and the aftermath. None of it was negative at all. I hurt knowing what my mother was going through, but every moment I spent helping her out and making sure she's comfortable and recovering was extremely positive for me. First of all, it showed me just how much I was willing to do for someone I truly cared about. No, I couldn't deal with the medical aspect of it at all, my stomach couldn't handle that part. However, every other task, every detail, I was able to manage without struggle. I'm no hero, I'm just a daughter. A daughter who came to terms with everything she owed her mother. I wouldn't have it any other way.

With the loss of my aunt, you would think that I would be either very morbid or extremely self- reflective. I'm kind of in the middle of the two. It was her time. She didn't lose her battle with cancer, she conquered it and when her mission was complete, she was received at the gates of Heaven. That's the optimistic way I have chosen to see her death, and no one can take that vision away from me. Today in the car I was holding my rosary and just saying a light prayer to her. Just telling her how much I miss her and how I'm thinking of her and her family as this is the first Christmas without her. Shortly after I said this prayer, this song came on the radio. You know, that song about the little boy buying shoes for his mother on Christmas Eve. She was very sick and he wanted her to look beautiful if she met Jesus that night. The only thing I could think during that song was how it seemed to be perfect timing considering I was thinking about my aunt whose sons are missing her so much this holiday season. That had to be a sign she was listening, right?

Graduating college was a different story. I finished school, spent the summer working and reading for fun. Then summer was over and I realized I wasn't going back to school this year. I plan on returning for my Master's eventually, but I would like to pay off some debt first. I thought that was a smart decision until I realized I don't make enough money waiting tables to pay off my debt in any decent amount of time. I think I need a new plan...

With those being the biggest highlights of the year, I think that's where I wrap it up. New Year's will probably bring about more thoughts to write. Merry Christmas!

Thursday, November 1, 2012

November. POEMber

It's been a while since I posted anything. I guess I was lacking the proper inspiration. Today I saw a post on twitter that said "POEMber." It was by a poet that I've had the luxury of meeting and speaking with over dinner with some former classmates. His name is Shihan, maybe you've heard of him. If not, look him up. His work is worthwhile. That tweet reminded me of when he first inspired me, years ago, when I stumbled across a YouTube video of him. Following his advice, I've decided to rededicate some time to writing. As much as I think about writing, you'd think I'd have books upon books of poetry, short stories, and well, numerous versions of autobiographies. Instead, I have a sea of thoughts and dreams that yearn to be written. So let me begin by finding an oldie of mine, but a favorite. Hopefully this will lead me to countless revisions and a discovery of some sort of masterpiece. This was written 5 years ago:


Like a mixture of rock and roll with my love hip-hop,
Like the day I found music,
Like my love for sound,
This place is such a wonder.

Follow the pounding of raindrops,
Engulf yourself in fog,
Swallow the sweetest breath of air you've ever had,
You've experienced a vision of my everyday.


Exercise your mind and give to a new existence,
Trust yourself and grow,
Flow into the next beginning,
Then- Be.


Be that person you've dreamed of,
Be unafraid to love,
Be unaware of criticism.


Love yourself.

your hair,
your mind,
your body,
Then love yourself more.

More than you've ever loved anything else,
More than a cowboy loves his horse,
More than a dancer loves her shoes.


Dream of what could be.

What can we make of this life?
What more can we do

once we have vacated our own existence?
What more than grow?
And who decides it...


I loved what I was attempting to do with this, and while it needs a lot of work, I'm up for the challenge. Here's to a better version by the end of the month!

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Being Published.

As many of you may know, I have recently been published for the very first time. My poem is in this year's edition of Tahoma West, the nationally recognized literary magazine published by students, faculty, and alumni of my school, UW Tacoma. Although I am extremely excited, honored, and blessed to be one of the few published in this magazine this year, I have one comment. Since my poem was accepted by the editorial staff of Tahoma West, I have already revised the poem. I feel that my new version is much better and shows my growth as a writer in such a short time. (I owe it all to my poetry instructor.) So, for those of you who will be getting a copy of the magazine (they're FREE!), I wanted to show you what I have at this point with this poem. One thing always remember, "a poem is never finished." That is a quote from my professor and it is something that comforts me in the revision process. So here is the latest version of "Superwoman"

She’s a trooper,
rarely soft, She barely cries.
She told me what will happen,
Then we sat, I asked “why?”

No one plans for cancer,
nobody has time.
The breasts that fed me and nourished me,
Gone.

I help Her up, very slowly
One inch at a time, She
scoots, and in one smooth move,
She’s up, now to attempt the walk.
It’s basically a hike
to the restroom, a challenge
just to lower her clothes, and full recovery
in the works, every time She sits back down.
Unable to bathe herself I must step up,
She sits on the stool, I take the sponge.
Her bandages still taped to her,
thank God I don’t have to see the true wound.
So Superwoman endures the worst,
while looking Her best.
She takes the beating,
And never backs down.
As much as I feel I suffer
watching my mother struggle,
She is the one in the pain.
She’s the survivor, not me.