Air Weaving

What the people around me don’t know

is that I am hyper aware

of all their dirty secrets

that are woven in their hair.

Events, they rarely touch me

no matter what they be

mind over mind redundant

crystal clear I see

The patterns of the lives that pass

right before my eyes

are rainbow colored epiphanies

pure as a summer sky.

But things are never simple

they’re never in a line

Things do not run linear

scatter fields of emotional land mines

Because people lie

and people thieve

and people want to win

People hurt each other

as if it’s not a sin

I witness every nuance

each glance

or expression

they try to hide

I’ll keep all their secrets

locked up safe inside.

If they ask me for the key

which they rarely do

I backhand them bluntly

straightening the askew.

TRIGGER WARNING! Break the Silence, STOP! The violence!

TRIGGER WARNING: I’m going to post this without using names because I don’t want to be disrespectful but needs to be addressed.

A while ago, I saw this video and it disturbed me. It was encouraging to some extent but the second part really made me wonder what would I do if I were in the same shoes witnessing this happening in front of me. Here is the video. Again, POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING:

I truly hoped that I’d be brave enough to stand up for anyone no matter who it is/was should they forget they have a right to feel safe, to not be humiliated, degraded, or otherwise emotionally abused. I witnessed an attractive young man be told by his girlfriend that he’s a fatty, that if she found someone with more money she’d leave him, but worse, in my eyes (as if those aren’t bad enough) she told him in front of other co-workers that he has dick sucking lips and should go find someone to blow. I said nothing at that time. It really truly bothered me, but I remained silent. Until today.

After witnessing another bout of her abuse, this time not only of this young man but of myself and another person, I went and spoke out against the consistent pattern of abuse found in her behavior. She holds a position of authority so I didn’t feel comfortable confronting her directly but asked guidance from a trusted superior who advised me to report it which I did. As I described what I’d heard and witnessed and the accommodations I’d made to avoid the confrontation I would not be able to restrain much longer, I was scared shitless. Not whether or not I was doing the right thing, but because the last time I reported someone in authority at a former job I held, I was fired.

My point in explaining all of this is because I feel like I shouldn’t have waited to say something. I should have reported it sooner. I should have, but I remained silent. I do not regret speaking out. I only regret that I allowed someone to suffer because I didn’t want to rock the boat. It’s rockin’ now, and I won’t back down not now, not ever again. He doesn’t deserve any less protection because he forgot he had a voice. NOBODY deserves abuse. Absolutely NOBODY!

P.S. This wouldn’t be so short, but I’ve yet to completely process this. I reserve the right to come back to this and revisit it once the processing has completed. (Keep in mind my brain is the 1968 model and may take longer than others.) 🙂

Tribe of Artists: UNITE!

If you’re a writer, a poet, a painter, an artist of any kind, I’d like to help you succeed. I’d like to do a featured artist of the week which will allow you exposure to my fellow bloggers. If you’d like to be featured (aka pinned) then drop me an email with a link to your page(s). If selected, I will make sure that I cross reference your work on Pinterest, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, and of course WordPress.

I believe strongly in supporting those with talent, drive, and ambition to bring their humanity into beautiful fruition. Although, and yes it pains me to say this, I can’t pay you anything, if we all share anyone’s art we really dig, we can spread even more beauty in the world. If you have a show coming up, let me know, I can post that too. I really want to help.

If you haven’t already done so, I encourage you to check out Activate Your Life! on Google + via the Anjana Network which is a group for artists of all sorts to find support and encouragement in their artistic field of choice. I am a moderator there and will happy to check out even more ways to help you promote your life’s work.

My email is the same as my page @gmail.com as well as at hotmail.com maremartell that is (Trying to confuse spambots may confuse you too but it’s my name with the appropriate suffixes). Let’s see what kind of an empire we can achieve when we lift one another up in love.

The Little Magician

This is me wearing my very stylish top hat. My stovepipe hat is taller and is one I wear with my super hero cape.

This is me wearing my very stylish top hat. My stovepipe hat is taller and is one I wear with my super hero cape.

When I start out in the morning of a day off, I’m never quite sure what I’ll end up wearing (other than my pj’s) at the end of the day. Today was no different. I started out in my black with pink pinstripe pants, a thin maroon waffle style long john shirt (long sleeve) with a brown shirt that has yellow letters declaring “I’m a Hugger” on the front with a picture of a bear. Around my neck I decided to wear my mini-harmonica necklace and my Chinese chime necklace so I’d have music all day long. Although I normally opt for a hat to wear, I instead bottomed off the outfit with some black and gray DC skater shoes that I got at the Salvation Army store for a quarter.

I showed up at the first event of the day which was an end of an era rummage sale reminiscent of the video game Skyrim’s Whiterun General Store proprietor, Belethor, who states with great creepiness, “Everything’s for sale! I’d sell my sister if I had one!” But seriously, they were selling everything. On the table I migrated to tidy and fix were all the Unitarian Universalist shirts left over from various events. They were nearly all children and youth sizes which I kept folding and arranging according to style. There were also some Halloween costumes which included a rather boring flapper’s dress, a sofa cover floral skirt, an adult’s clown costume with bells at the ankles and wrist but none on the hat, a child’s clown costume that looked as if it were as old as the church (1956), a stack of 10 sombreros (one of which was bright purple and traditional in decoration), a flattened witches hat, and a black graduation cap with the tassel that read 2006. SCORE!

I put on the cap and let the thick yellow tassel dangle around my face. It fit surprisingly well. After straightening a few other tables, I discovered a white beard (no mustache) with a working elastic string to hold it in place. On went the beard to add to my growing ensemble. I engaged people in conversations, helped them sort through the things we had left, moved 80 chairs to be moved from our soon to be absent church to the Ecumenical Storehouse (where the not so well off can get home furnishings (and those who lost homes to fires or the like) transport truck. I chatted it up with friends, rearranged merchandise and enjoyed the time. One of the ladies, an artist, Ms. Seely, found a pair of Harry Potter glasses which, surprisingly were wearable and didn’t give me a headache. I found a gold framed mirror to check my appearance and stared into the eyes of a professor wizard. It made me giggle.

I traveled from that event to the next wearing my new attire feeling incredibly lucky to be gifted with such oddities. When I arrived at the phone bank venue I was about to work, my friends didn’t recognize me until I spoke. That made my heart do flip-flops because these are people I work with on several important issues such as abortion rights and climate action. I removed the costume to demonstrate that I was ready to get down to business. Four pages of phone calls later, I was able to get the message out to about 35-40 Tennessee voters requesting their support if they didn’t already feel the same. When I left I felt accomplished as I redressed in my Professor’s costume. I drove home to collect my little dog and change attire.

When I go out to do public service, I like to wear my super hero cape that has the same Love Thy Neighbor logo on it as the shirt I shared yesterday. This one:

I wear the cape because I feel that when I’m doing community service (this time on behalf of Neighborhood Watch National Night Out), it is important to demonstrate in action, word, and mindfulness of others why you’re actually going there. I wear it as a reminder to myself that with great power comes great responsibility which I take, believe it or not, seriously. I don a top hat or a stovepipe hat in tribute to Honest Abe who is one of my favorite American heroes via his humanity. I feel strong and spiritually powerful when I wear the attire (plus, the cape was a birthday gift from a dear friend of mine named Max and was modified by another I adore Manderley). Yes, I would feel the same without the attire about myself and my actions, but it’s a physical manifestation for me, it harms nobody, brings delight and joy, and fills my spirit with even more loving feelings.

Because I was busy with volunteer work over the last couple of days, I haven’t been home to check social media very much. I missed the announcement that cancelled the dog costume parade. I was disappointed in that because Piggy was subjected to two coats of strawberry shampoo (I swear that stuff requires a spoon it smells so good) and a purple and pink striped sparkle collar with matching leash to show off her shiny blue coat. They weren’t going to let me in until I promised to hold Piggy and keep her away from the food booths. I complied.

I was just about to leave when a little girl in a pale blue dress, long blonde curls to her waist, and a pink balloon sword approached me with eyes wide.

“Do you do any magic tricks?” She asked me while swinging the sword around in the air.

“Well that’s a great question. Why wouldn’t I know a couple of magic tricks when I have an awesome hat like this?” I retort, more out loud than to her. I addressed her directly, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, I just like to wear top hats and super hero capes.” I felt really bad. Actually, that’s not accurate. I felt guilty. I rubbed Piggy behind the ears as if she were suddenly going to pull a rabbit out of my hat which she didn’t do.

“Well that’s okay.” She sighed with disappointment on her face for but a brief moment. “I can do a magic trick.” She declared.

“No kidding? What can you do?” As I looked down into her face, I saw her thinking rapid fire of a response.

She held up her balloon sword above her head. “I can turn this sword into a hat.”

“I don’t believe it. Will you show me?” She had me in the palm of her hand, the suspense was building in my guts as I wondered how in the world she’d pull off this impromptu show.

She wriggled the balloon sword around in her hands, trying to remember or trying to discover the secrets. With inspiration striking, she worked the “sword” tip into the handle and placed it on her head. “I now have a hat.” She declared with a grin.

If I wasn’t holding my little dog, I would have applauded. “That’s pretty impressive.” I chuckled, “I wouldn’t have thought of that.” I said as the balloon tip slipped out of the handle with a lightly audible pop sound. She grabbed the balloon sword and remade the hat, crowning herself once again.

“I can do another magic trick, you wanna see?” She asked taking the converted hat from her head.

“Sure. What else do you have in your bag of tricks.”

“I can turn this hat into an umbrella.” She twisted at the waist which made the hem of her dress flare out a bit. I glanced the crowd to see who else was watching but it seemed this was just a one woman show with an audience of two (Yes, I’m counting Piggy Suey).

“No kidding. Let’ see.” I watch fascinated as this seven-year old-ish girl starts pulling the balloon this way and that and ends up with a wad at one end which she proudly places over her head declaring it an umbrella. “Well I’ll be. That sure is an umbrella!”

“I told you I could do it.” She glowed with pride.

“You sure did. You’ve now taken a sword and transformed it into a hat. Then you took a hat and created an umbrella out of it. Do you know any other tricks?”

She paused, deep in thought. She tilted her head to the left listening to her guardian spirit that whispered giggling into her ear. The girl smiled with her new adult front teeth not at all looking out of place on her face. “Yes. I can make this umbrella into a flower.”

“No kidding? Wanna show me?” Piggy snorted with impatience as I stroked her neck near her shiny new collar. Piggy settled back into my arms and I was so intrigued with this little magician’s tricks I just HAD to see how the show concluded.

She nodded confidently and tugged at the wad until it was a looser wad but generally resembled a child’s drawing of a daisy.

“Hokey toot!” I declared with genuine appreciation. I listed off her accomplishments and as I stated each new creation she grinned widely nodding in agreement. “And here you came to me asking for magic when you already had it yourself!”

“I know!” She giggled. “I can do one more. I can make the sword sharp.”

I have no idea who this little girl was, but she was completely engaging. As I stood there in a room bustling with over 100 other people, I realized I was being given a far greater gift. I stayed for the finale. “Okay, let’s see how you do this.”

She pulled the balloon back into the shape of a sword and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear she winked before she began to twist the tip of the “sword” into about a three inch ball. With a flourish that would make D’Artagnan proud, she thrust the sword forward, then slashed the sword with a backhand followed with one final riposte with the unsuspecting chair she’d attacked in earnest and her balloon popped.

She stood there with the pink former sword/hat/umbrella/flower/sharpened sword dangling dead in her hands. She looked more surprised than shocked or disappointed. She smiled at me. I smiled back.

“Thanks for the show. It was spectacular.” I tried to comfort her with my appreciation.

“I know it was.” She grinned, dropped the dead show on the ground and ran into the crowd.

I’m not sure, but I believe with all my heart, I created more magic by not knowing a magic trick than if I had been knowledgeable. I’m still grinning from ear to ear. I am indeed a blessed and lucky woman because I see the magic around me in every day people doing mundane things with such perfect humanity that it just makes my heart sing. Thank you little magic girl. May your magic always be in your hands.

Love Thy Neighbor: FOR SALE!

Just like on the back of my super hero cape, you can also own this design to wear with pride anywhere you travel. It’s love is demonstrated for all humans to be and love who they do. Part of the proceeds will go to The Crisis Center in Bristol, TN/VA as a way to give back for their contributions to loving thy neighbor enough to speak out.

Love Thy Neighbor

The Blue Screen of Life

I’m resting my face in the comfortable bluish white glow of my laptop

Staring at the screen as my friends parade by with a wild array of emotions.

I see a link one has posted and I click to see what interests them

The pictures move me to wellies, but that’s not the only reason I weep.

You see, I’m grateful in my heart and spirit for so many things

That I can’t contain the joy, the peace, the beauty that is my soul song.

The band of merry-makers parades down my cheeks in a wild array of emotions

Displaying colors and words of excitement, glee, hope, and cherished gratitude.

I can carry my banner with the honor to my mother and dad whom I love dearly.

I can tip my top hat in celebration of those beautiful souls that orbit their light

With belief that the Universe knows, heeds, and believes back.

I wipe the tears away but my heart is so full, I keep leaking happies and joy.

If you hold out your hand and take mine. If you trust yourself to believe,

I can entrust a part of me to you and you to me that together we’ll go far as can be

And then we’ll jump even farther, travel the world of possibilities, explore new lands

Oh the stories of love and adventure we’ll bring home from the farthest reaches.

Which will only encourage others to parade around with their own banners

Declaring openly their wide array of emotions all born from the nurturing love of an idea.

Common Enemy

povertyinamericaWe have a common enemy

That hands out shackles of poverty

As Mistresses and Masters of iniquity

Provoking our inequalities

Promoting the division of you and me

Which adds dollars to their bloated prosperity

While we fill their sales on their corporate sea

With no trickle down reciprocity

I work for them and they give to me

Silver pieces for my soul adding up to forty

Which they take back in taxes from me

While claiming this the “Land of the Free”

Then they take food and shelter from our progeny

Claiming that we’re, simply, “Just lazy.”

Propaganda Unbound by Jimbo Slice

Jimbo Slice is my friend’s fiance’. He writes poems and hides them on Facebook. I told him he needs to put them up for people to experience. He gave me permission to post the poems he writes that hit me in the guts. This is one of them.

Here in America

we are taught to believe

that we all can make it

we all can succeed.

Happiness, fame,

Luxury and greed

Is ours for the taking,

If only we believe

that we are

what we’re worth

and we are

what we need.

 

Here in America

we are taught to believe

That we’re nothing but heroes

But we’re deceived.

We’re not a collection

Of objects and things,

Of clothes and music,

Of power and bling,

We’re misled

and deluded,

shallow and fake.

Our money is made

For the wealthy to take.

 

Here in America

As impoverished, we cling

To the lies and illusions

That as children we sing.

Our myths and our dreams

Are nothing but words

Fodder for poets,

Politicians, and birds.

 

Here in America

We were all taught a fable.

But it’s far, far different

When we see the table,

minus the bread of the truth

and the fruit of our dreams.

Propaganda unbound

Of thee, I sing.

The Battle of NOW

NOW is when courage gets strapped on like armor
with the buckle of character and the belt of strength.
With the grieving already completed
nothing left to lose but the chains of slavery
perpetuated by the blind by choice monarchs
of an antiquated sense of royal entitlement
I will heed the trumpets of battle calling me to arms
I will join those who require justice, balance,
My sisters and brothers united.

NOW is when the shadows should be fearful
for the Light is coming, I carry it.
Until the last breath is drawn from my lungs
with a battle cry as fierce as fire
I will hold my torch aloft without discrimination
but with mercy unknown to those ignorant of truth.
Know that the moon is my shield, the sun is my guide
The clouds themselves won’t allow dark to hide.
With my sisters and brothers I will unite.

NOW is when the warrior voices of those who survive,
covered in battle wounds, scars, and bruises,
raise up their outrage against the injustices.
Swinging axes of love and beauty against the darkness
Slashing red ribbons into pretty bows to enhance life
Encouraging the young to speak violently
words of compassion, kindness, and dreams
Reminding everyone of the language of their soul
United with my sisters and brothers, I fight.

NOW is when we band together
under the warrior’s banner that reads
“COME UNITY”
with the sword of truth gleaming glittery
with freedom released into the air from the cage
where it stagnated under the weight of oppression
where it strangled under the lies of darkness
where it remained every hopeful of rebirth
Only we can be the midwives of this bloody mess
Only we can set the cries of the newborn into the world
with a swat on the buttocks of bad behaviors
apathy, disinterest, rejection, bigotry, anger
Only we can swaddle our neighbors and communities
in the dawning of a new age with baby steps of joy.

My brothers and sisters hear my please!

Come, oh come, oh come to me!

NOW is the time to refuse division of our spirits.
NOW is the time for progressing our peace through love.
NOW is the gift we’re given to make a difference,
you and me and the faceless stranger.
NOW is the time to be present in changing our future
one loving gesture at a time.
NOW we can recognize one another openly
know that it is not just your burden, but OURS.
NOW we can pull up our shirtsleeves,
honor our hearts, our minds, our hands together.
NOW we can continue the work of our ancestral souls
that are bound to our blood as we are bound to one another.

My brothers and sisters hear my please!

Come, oh come, oh come to me!