Month: November 2022

I’d Rather Have a Cup of Coffee

I’d rather have a cup of coffee with a transgender woman…. than with any extremist on the right, most likely she won’t even own a gun let alone an AR15….. she hates violence of any type,

and since she studies history, we could talk about the constitution…. “assault rifles are not in there…” she continues, “do you realize how long it takes to reload a musket?”

She’s getting her PhD next year, but she tears up, reaches for a tissue from her purse because children aren’t being taught about the pain of racism, “slavery really did happen…. we need to acknowledge our pain, so we can heal”…. I shake my head yes,

when I mention the radical left, she laughs saying, “I’m more of a John McCain myself…..you see how people assume?” …. She mentions the only radicals she knows are in a musty old basement on the east side of Brooklyn, university students writing their manifesto….. “by the way, they have no guns,” she quickly adds,

“I think people just want Grandma to have her electricity on, to have heat in the winter, and some decent food to eat…. instead of dog food out of a can…. is that so terrible?” No not at all, not even one bit, “that’s not radical…. that’s being human,” I add. “Exactly!” she says.

Yes, I’m sure I could have an amazing conversation with a transgender woman….. but not with an extremist, from the right.

What time does Starbucks close?

Writing and Image Copyright © 2022 rivers renewed

Transgender

Colorado? Her world tilted when she heard the news. She felt sick. Weeping, she looked out her window. No birds could encourage her this time, no matter how hard they tried.

What should she do? What could she do? Drive out there? Take a bus? People there needed to be held, needed to be seen. By someone that cared.

After washing the tears from her face, she noticed the sun beginning to set behind the apartments across the street. She went for her coat and hat, determined to find some of her fellow transgender friends downtown.

“Dear God…” was all she could say as she walked out the door. She would hold someone tonight, and they would cry together, whispering “I know…. I know….” giving each other just enough,

courage

to make it

another day.

P.S. Hate and violence towards the LGBTQ community is getting worse in our country. Black transgender women are the most murdered group of people in the United States.

I stand against hate, and I stand with the LBGTQ community in Colorado Springs. If you don’t like people that are different from you, including the transgender community, please consider not following.

Much of this hate and violence is from the far right, starting with rhetoric.

For the next couple of weeks I’ll be resharing works of fiction I’ve written about transgender women. And maybe Emma will stop by to protect us, by extending her wings.

Poetry, Narrative and Image © Copyright, 2022 rivers renewed

Emma on the Border

The French cuisine was exquisite along the border. Emma reached for her steak knife, cutting deeply

into the honey glazed chicken, as she was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight in a quiet corner of the café. The meal reminded her of a certain general who always wanted her, honey glazed

The plan worked.

show ‘em a little leg, have him caught in a web of a beautiful seduction, and before he could be her champion… she called forth the wolves,

he learned his deadly mistake as he quivered on the marble steps. She had towered over him

another Nazi leader decimated,

eliminated,

then fertilizing the moss covered soil that would one day carry Allied tanks.

Emma poured herself another glass of wine, smiling sardonically, looking at her reflection in the shine of her steak knife. Then she cut deeply again into the honey glazed chicken, while a wolf howled in the distance.

She would never be the victim of anyone.

It was 1941. Or was it?

Writing and Image © Copyright 2022 rivers renewed

Awakened by the Falling

Awakened by the falling, I move forward anyway

and I love

the way the light moves

filtering

through the leaves.

Poetry, and Image © Copyright, 2022 rivers renewed

P.S. Whenever I go through a difficult circumstance I seek to allow the light in.

The ancient poet Rumi taught me this. And even when I think

I cannot continue, I move forward anyway.

Peace.

Of the Poet’s Heart

Autumn’s frost deepening the crimson of maple leaves, yet

I wonder

of the poet’s heart,

are we only placed here to renew, clearly

we have a voice

as with summer crickets singing

their sweet songs,

yet locusts clattering of who knows what, droning

until summer’s ear no longer listens.

So instead of singing sweetly or droning endlessly

I write simply,

will we survive until next autumn?

I wonder, and an equation is formed like this:

CONSPIRACY THEORIES = HATE = VIOLENCE AND CRUELTY = FACISM =

DESTRUCTION.

Think it can’t happen in the United States? It already has.

Just ask Paul Pelosi.

VOTE.

Poetry and Image © Copyright, 2022 rivers renewed

P.S. Almost all political hate is from the right. The “both sides” theory is from the right wing attempting to defuse their blame. More than 90% is from Republicans, according to Liz Cheney.