Lyrical Soul

  Everyone loves listening to music because it helps us cope with life. I find that whether I’m extremely happy or extremely sad..I listen to music. It helps me to deal with whatever is going on and it enhances my happiness.

It’s funny how you can like a song even if the lyrics are crappy but the melody is catchy and you cant help but to dance or tap your feet. Like if you were reading the lyrics like a book you wouldn’t want to read it anymore.

My mom is a Native American Singer and her lyrics are awesome and so is her voice. Her name is Star Nayea, you can goggle her. She has taught me how to appreciate the art of music and lyrics through her music. It bugs me sometimes to listen to a song with the worst lyrics in the whole world and see struggling musicians who are talented.

Who are some of your favorite musicians with real talent?

Anyway this blog is completely random and I just wanted to try out writing a song because I am a poet and I thought it might not be as different. This song was written for my dad and step-mom who is having a tough times in their relationship right now..which is weird cuz they are good together.

 Dare to Imagine

Dare to imagine

What your life would be

Without me

Do you see chaos

Or happiness

Because everyday

You feed me

With your selfishness

(chorus)

I won’t be here forever

You know

I might not live

Through the rest of the day

So tell me what it is

You see without me

I’m just your human sacrifice

So you can sit in your so called paradise

What about me

What about us

Don’t you see

I wont be here forever

You know

I might not live

Through the rest of the day

So tell me

What it is

You see without me

Don’t take me for granted

I want our love seed replanted

Because before all

Your motivation

There was me

And our love’s sensation

 Picture Site: www.acclaimimages.com

Memory Child

I lost my first-born baby about three years ago. A girl…A beautiful girl. I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately for some reason. I was 19 when I became pregnant for the first time. My husband then boyfriend and I had gone on a road trip through the Western part of the United States. We were going to make a stop at the Grand Canyon before we headed to Washington. When we got to Arizona we stopped at a Wal-Mart and I picked up a pregnancy test. I took the test in the wally world bathroom and when my results showed up, I remember feeling extremely dizzy. When we were back on the road and I told him the news, neither of us said a word but I knew my husband wasn’t upset because he had a smile on his face the whole time.

From the moment my husband and I first spoke our spark was  instant and so fast that I felt like I was on a rollercoaster ride… in a good way…a butterflies in your stomach kind of way. Like we were meant to be together. (cheesy I know… but real) 

We finally made it to the Grand Canyon and I remember we were sitting together on a rock just inches away from the actual canyon watching the sunset. (you havent seen the Grand Canyon until you’ve seen it with a sunset). And he wrapped his arms around me and said its going to be ok. Watching the pink, orange and purple sky reflect in the most beautiful place on earth showed me what a blessing I had growing inside my body and I was happy. Even though she was here only for a little while, she is was still a blessing.   I was lucky enough to have a few days with my beautiful angel and I couldn’t have asked for more.

It’s the most devastating experience in the world to lose a child but we have to remind ourselves that everything happens for a reason. We as mothers, and fathers come back from this experience stronger than ever. We learn to appreciate the family that we do have. My husband and I have become closer than ever because we got through it together. And I always say that we have a true angel looking after us.

I wrote this poem for my little angel. It was published in RedInk magazine.

Only In Memory Now

Sacred hands stroke my belly

blossomed with stretch marks,

A medicine man prays over my womb.

Cradled in his blessed palms

We imagine what could be…

… Making one last trip to the mid-wives’ office,

only to hear that my unborn child’s bones

have miraculously reached across her chest

and she will be able to breathe without a machine’s assistance.

                       She will breathe.

… Going through an unforgettable procedure

with complete strangers hovering over me with a knife at my belly,

only to hear my baby cry

while they place her precious body into my arms.

              She is going to live.

Hope criss crosses around my heart that night

and when I go for my check up the next day,

that seam is ripped and my heart bleeds into the puddle of no faith

that always drips from the mid-wives’ over coats.

          They do not know faith, only science.

Dark clouds slowly roam through the sky,

And I give birth to the most beautiful girl I have ever known.

She had our hair

    Dark, soft.

My nose

    Round, pudgy.

His eyes

    Almond shaped and colored.

My skin

    Our faces could blend into the same portrait.

His toes

    Unnaturally gapped.

She had our heart

    Strong enough, to breathe just enough, to overcome scientific predictions.

In the light we watched her sleep,

and through darkness she held my hand in song:

Hush little baby don’t you cry

mammas gonna be right by your side,

and when creator comes for you

I’m gonna miss you and daddy will too.

And then he came,

and then she went.

Her spirit swam through tears and out of my arms.

It’s been said before how it’s the worst

thing for a woman to learn to love her womb in nine months

And then walk out with nothing.

We walked out with inspiration,

appreciation,

to live in honor of her.

To share forever with each other.

I cradle her with my thoughts

I feed her with prayer

because I was given three beautiful days with my beautiful baby.

Grand Canyon Picture site: www.ego4u.com

Deppresion

It’s so hard sometimes to put into words what emotions you are feeling, especially when you are depressed. I went through a stage where I was depressed for a few months and I could not pin point the reasons for feeling so sad and angry all at once. And I found that if you can’t put into words why or what your feeling, no one will take you seriously. I would stare out the window for hours at a time, feeling trapped and so much would be going on around me because I have a husband and two children. Then I would feel worthless because I didn’t contribute to the household. I finally figured out that its okay for a woman to feel down sometimes. There is all this pressure that we need to be superwoman because the family depends on us. If we don’t acknowledge our emotions then it will all build up and we will finally explode. A friend of mine once told me, “If mamma aint happy, then no one will be happy.”  Here is a poem that wrote about depression and I wrote it while I was depressed so hopefully I was able to capture the emotion well.

Trapped in Emotion

 

 Depression rolls over

                                 into my days

                                                     and then my months like an unpaid electric bill.

The baby cries

and she’s wet.

The toddler wines

and she’s hungry.

The husband is yelling

and he can’t find

matching socks.

I stare out the window

                             and watch the new spring leaves quiver

                                                                                     until darkness tucks the day away.

My thoughts are uncontrollable.

What about the kids

what about homework

and my relationship

and what about my life

 Their mouths move

                         like fish gasping for air

                                                            open and close   

                                                                             and like a hungry fisherman I could care less.

My eyes scream for help.

The backdoor is open

and I look twice

one

two

to see it closed.

I tell them I’m ok

but tears stream

down my face.

Longing to feel the wind

                                 that dances with the grass,

                                                                        I turn the knob

                                                                                      let go

                                                                                            and turn back around.

Toddlers!!

This May my little girl turned 2. I am in the process of finding her a daycare but all the good daycares are full already. There is one daycare that is open but it got bad reviews. Should I check this place out and give them the benefit of the doubt or should I trust the bad reviews? I’d rather teach my daughter basic education myself rather than leave her in a bad environment. Not only do I have to worry about the teaching but also the way they treat my girl. I live in the South where there is a lot of racism against Native American and I’ve come across a lot of it. Its my job to protect my children from racism. She looks very Native and could possibly be mistaken for Mexican and there is alot of controversy with this ethnicity in the world today. So many things to worry about for  my baby… As a mom I want the best of the best and I know I can’t protect her from everything but I sure as hell will try. Here is a poem I wrote especially for my girl. It’s an Ode…my first attempt at an ode poem.

Ode to Toddlers

When I attempt

to change her diaper,

She tosses and turns.

My hand lands in her poo

and makes my stomach churn.

Right after I clean

the living room floor,

she pours out her toys

and hides by the front door.

I can’t get the marker stains

out of her shirt,

and in her pants pocket

is a clump of dirt.

She whines to feed herself

so I give her a spoon,

and the food is everywhere

like we’re in the middle

of a monsoon.

And just when I think

that I can’t handle any more,

she throws a huge fit

in the middle of the grocery store.

She has also given me memories

that I will never forget.

Having this child

I will never regret.

She wakes up in the morning

with her hair in her face,

hugs me and babbles

like she’s from outer space.

When she knows I’m mad at her

she kisses my cheek,

and meows like a cat;

makes me forget that

she’s such a little brat.

She dances to any sound

that makes a beat,

bobs her head

and stomps her feet.

She scrunches her nose

when she smiles.

 When she gets excited,

you can hear her scream

from miles.

She pretends to read

my school books,

and I can’t help but

stare at her beautiful looks.

It wasn’t until she was born

that I felt true love,

Creator gave me 

a precious life to be proud of.

A Poem

This is my first blog so I am a little nervous about posting, I decided to share a poem I wrote about a month ago. I havent written anything since my first child passed away but here is my rusty come-back.

Broken Woman

 

Created in the womb

of a broken woman,

her body shared by many men.

Hair the color of fire

faded by bleach

again and again

to please a man.

Her feet blistered by heels

to please some other  man.

She no longer knows the truth,

her truth.

She used to be an Indian woman

with a heart blossomed

by ceremony and dance.

Her mouth filled with a language

almost forgotten.

She is almost forgotten.

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