A Letter to My God Daughter on Her 1st Birthday

 My darling Kata,

Today is your 1st birthday!

When I first met your mommy in 2014 it was like an instant connection. I don't connect with people easy at allllll but with Sahilia Ramirez, she was a safe space before I knew I needed one. She was the only person at Wheaton that I could be my full, unfiltered, unhinged self with. She never judged me at times I was judging myself and for moments I KNEW I was in the wrong. She was one of the people to show me what unconditional love looks in a friendship...and she was the first person to make me hug a tree...

And then I met you. Nearly 10-years from the date I met your mommy you arrived, and similar to meeting your mommy, the connection and love I felt for you was instantaneous. I am so blessed that I got to hold you at 3-days old and honored that our birthdays are within the same week. My Leo niece, please know that you are surrounded by love wherever you go. You have a village that loves you and will kill somebody if need be. On the eve of your 1st birthday, I write this with love, thank you for incarnating into this lifetime and making my life so much more full. You are a princess who will one day rise to a queen but in the meantime, please know, I got you. I can't wait to be the rich auntie that spoils you with whatever you want, but in the meantime, I'll spoil you with my love.

To Sahilia and Kevin, thank you for creating love through your own love. You all inspire me to be a parent but to wait until I find a love that will be worth the journey. You both are doing a beautiful job guiding your angel Earth side. Thank you for choosing me to be the madrina. I will hold this honor dear for the rest of all time and will always be right by your side.

Happy 1st Birthday Kata and congratulations on surviving and excelling at your first year of parenthood Sahilia and Kevin.

Love you guys always,

Zara

The 'N' Word

 What does nigger mean to you?

Merriem-Webster defines it as an insulting and contemptuous term for a Black person

OR an insulting and contemptuous term for a member of any dark-skinned race

OR  a member of a class or group of people who are systematically subjected to discrimination and unfair treatment.

Since there are no black-owned dictionaries just yet, I guess we'll go with that.

So, what does nigger mean to you?

For me, nigger is a trigger.

As a young black kid, you learn that nigger has several meanings, some of which juxtapose.

And as a proud, black kid, you learn to never let anyone call you a nigger, especially someone you don't know.

But what happens when you move to a town where your selectwoman is rumored to be part of the KKK....shout out to Bethany, CT

What happens when your 7th grade English teacher permits kids to use nigger because 'it's literature'...but you're the only black kid in the class...shout out to Mrs. Gamble.

And then in high school when the only time the popular kids would speak to you was to scream 'nigger' and laugh...Shout out to Amity.

Or on your first winter break home from college, a 6 foot 5 Israeli guy is chanting nigger all night long and when you ask him to stop he tells you to 'chill nigger' so you accidentally spill a drink in his face...oops. He then tries to charge at you, says a quick sorry when his friends calm him down but shortly after sexual assaults you when you fall asleep on the couch....what happens then?

Shout out to Shlomi Davidi....

If you've never experienced the full weight of the word nigger in a moment of terror, why would you use it in a moment of joy?

If you've never been scared for the safety of your sister who is forced to continue working after a white male stranger screams nigger to her face, why would you use it in jest?

If you've never shed a tear for ancestors who heard the word nigger right before the tree branched snapped from the weight of America's picnics, then why the fuck are you using the word.

I don't know if this is a poem or a vent session I'm forcing you all to listen to but I'm so s sick and tired of hearing non-black people use that word.

To my Hispanics who are not and have never identified as Afro-Latino, stop.

To my Asians who are not blended with the mixture of Jhene, Kimora, Naomi, or Kaeruche, stop.

To my whites who love black music but not black people, stop.

Yes, some black people do not care if you use the word just like some gays do not care about the 'F' word or Asians the 'C' word, or Jews the 'K' word, or Mexicans, the 'W' word....but others...others will make that word the last word you ever did say.

Because... they were triggered.

Guess My Favorite Animal

Majestic Magician Manifesting Matriarchy

Majestic Magician Manifesting Monogamy

Majestic Magician Manifesting Mystery

Majestic Magician Manifesting Manifestations

My favorite animal is the Majestic Magician.

The Majestic Magician comes in all sizes and colors; shapes and sounds.

They inhabit bodies, beautiful and round.

They take on roles; man, woman, human. Black, white, mixed.

They take on roles within roles, doctor, lawyer, accountant. Secretary, teacher, clerk.

They immerse themselves in this land of confusion forgetting who they are. Losing their magic.

Yes, my favorite animal is one that doesn't realize they're an animal at all.

It thinks these roles, responsibilities, and relationships they form are more important than their souls, consciousness, and nature that they neglect.

They forget that they are the chosen ones, the chosen animal, the Majestic Magician.

Yes they are on the ones who created the earth.

And they are the ones who manifested themselves

To nurture the nature that reminds them of their own.

The nature that’s one with spirit, one with planet,  one with love.

Love is that thing that connects us all, from dolphin to fish, cow to donkey, blade of grass to grass we smoke, we are one with it all. One with love, one with God, one with nature.

So to my favorite animals who are reading this poem, please remember who you are.

We are the Majestic Magician!

We are silly, we play, we drink, we eat, we fuck, we rest. Give your animalistic nature the love it deserves. Don't fall too deep into your character of human that you forget to manifest your magic.

So on the count of three, please roar with me. And don't forget to be silly and play, drink and eat, fuck and rest.

1.2.3 Roarrrrrrrrr

Gloria's Gardens

A seed planted in 1938, bore the most beautiful fruit until 2024.

Your first harvest was produced in a tiny town called Retreat, atop a sunny mountain terrain named Clarendon, Jamaica.

A peaceful morning on February 10th, brought an island apple named Gloria.

She was as unique as a snowy day in June.

Red complected with the sweetest core.

Protected by her mommy apple, daddy apple, and gally apple too, she was surrounded by other fruit, who guided her as she bloomed.

Playful as a pineapple, she'd use her pretty straw dollies to imagine and dream.

Mischievous as a mango tief, she'd yell "moooo cowww" to other fruits in the field as they'd freeze, and then scream.

It was there in Retreat's soil, she was nurtured for many moons to come.

Until she met Edbert Seymour Salmon, who made her his june plum.

What was once an island apple was now a garden goddess, with hibiscus on her heart setting his a flame of the woods.

She returned his amore in secluded pastures,

Though hers was always more of a subtle simmer like a gardenia gleaming in sunlight, dancing on morning dew.

When he asked for her hand in marriage,

She said onto him one thing..

"I'll only join your garden, if you promise me this,

On the days there is sun, and our yield produces a plenty,

we must remember that these times will come again, in the seasons of barren expire."

And so the garden transplant was successful.

From Jamaica to England, then England to the United States.

They traveled in unison, throughout 6 decades of space.

Forming fruit together, multiplying that by six, and in time, many more.

Planting seeds in their seedlings, lessons everlasting.

2 peas in a pod,

My Grandma and Grandpa.

They taught me how to love myself and grew me to be kind.

They taught me that a flourishing field, does not grow overnight.

They taught me to be humble and to hold my head up high.

They taught me that I need to love God, my family, and this earth, as that love will never die.

Plants are like us in many ways, thriving on nutrients, rain, and sunshine.

From a seed they grow into a fully formed plant, impacting the ecosystems from which they form. Some may germinate and take claim in other pastures, while others may stay in the firmament from which they bud.

But all require those essential keys to thrive and be alive.

I was blessed to be born into your garden,

And I'll do my best to ensure it grows.

I love you Gloria Madge Thompson Salmon

I hope you're enjoying your new home.

Untitled

 On Tuesday, June 4th, 2024 I saw a man die and come back to life.

My therapist helped me to realize that, that scared me.

It was in one of my favorite places in Providence, by the Pedestrian bridge. He was in one bush, putting something in his veins.

I was by another bush, smoking weed by the water talking to my sister on the phone saying how blessed I felt to live in a place I could confidently call home.

I get off the phone and unlight my joint. I head to my car with a plan to get some more work done after my workday was already done.

I hear screaming. I nosely saunter over thinking it was a drunk public dispute.

A nerdy man waves me over and says, "it's an overdose, do you know where to find narcan?"

I do. I run to the nice office building across the street with a mission to get the narcan I knew was near the bathroom sink.

But then we see the ambulance...they are going the wrong way.

So we switch directions to waive them toward the dying man, left dead in bush, trying to escape from whatever with whoever by anything means necessary.

The ambulance gets to him and puts a shot in his veins. Hes still not moving so they apply pressure to his chest. Their blue gloves touch his blue veins trying to get a pulse.

His head looks red and hot like he's been baking in the sun all day.

More thrusts to the heart, more pressure, more pressure.

And finally...he jerks...back to life...back to reality.

He jerks again...back to life...back to normality.

He seems disoriented but he's alive...thank God.

I gave the ambulance man a thumbs up, thanking God for creating angels in human form.

First responders deserve a bigger check.

I start to walk to my car, unpacking what I just witnessed when a Botoxed Becky comes too close for comfort.

"Did you see what happened?" she asks.

"Yes, overdose, it's sad," I reply.

"Oh, well sometimes those guys are just mad you messed up their high," she suggests.

I think to myself that's an inhumane, unempathetic thing to say about a human being who was dead less than a few minutes ago but go head Botox Becky. But, the words that come to my lips simply say,

" I really just pray he finds the healing that he deserves, therapy is so expensive, I couldn't afford it myself just last year, so whatever is going on with him, I pray he finds the healing he needs"

She changes her tone, to a more somber note.

I walk to my car, away from the bullshit.

This is America, the land of red, white and blue.

Where 2 things can be happening at once, and both are true.

Where one person in a bush can chatter with glee about life and all of its intricacies.

And another person in a bush, just a few feet away could be nearing the end of his life, unintentionally.

Just a few feet away. Our realities so different.

But they intersected, if only for a few minutes.

I pray he's okay.

I call my sister when I'm back in my car to tell her what happened in the 10-minutes since we've been apart.

Back to life, back to reality.

Back to life, back to normality.

I Was Wine Drunk When I Wrote This Shit

 I don't believe anyone on earth could ever just want me as their partner

I'm working this out in therapy.

For most, I am able to speak life into their love.

And I'm able to do that for me too sometimes.

But when I get to my lowest of lows,

I just become my worst foe.

I've had some men stay around for a little over a year.

So long as I sucked their dicks, being sure to empty it.

I've also had some men be head over heels but for whatever reason, I couldn't catch their feels,

So I'd drift a part,

Maybe even breaking a heart

But, I've always stood in my truth,

Even when it is a fucking loop di loop.

I've never cheated nor have I been the other woman.

However, I've been cheated on, preyed upon, and unknowingly been the other woman.

That sucked.

But I'm not perfect either though.

I'm scared of my feelings growing too big because I  don't truly want to let anyone in.

I don't want to be exposed before I'm ready, I don't want to be loved before I'm steady.

So, I go to work and study for school.

I work on my non-profit and cook some fuel.

Those are my safe spaces where no one is telling me,

That 'I'm not enough'

Or that 'I'm being too much'

Because I'm just me, that's all I can be.

I like to spend time alone,

And smoke weed before socialization.

Because it scares me when one gets too close,

What if they hurt me without hesitation?

I don't mean to come off jaded,

To be honest most of the times, I'm probably faded.

I am a woman that has done her best to try and love herself, so if I ever show up as standoffish and shy, it's just because I'm trying to protect myself.

Because for over a decade this woman wanted to die and would actively pray for her demise.

Thank God she's left that space but sometimes she finds one comparable.

One where she doesn't want to die, not even in the least

But she wants to figure out what's wrong with her, why does every human interaction seem to leave her beat?

And why does she shake when she's with a man and why does she want to find love but is scared to try again?

No, it's not that I want to die. It's just that at times I'm scared to live...or at that very least, find it hard to understand how other humans can co-exist.

How come she doesn't tense up, when another body touches hers?

And how come he always seems to know the right words to say, when mine all seemed to have been lost in a deep abyss?

I'm a grown woman now, about to be 28.

But sometimes my 28 feels 5-years old, fueled by familial love.

And other times,  it just feels 18, and raped.

"Does that mean I'm healing? "

I ponder as I pour another drink.

A Letter I Wrote on a Christmas Flight in 2023... Probably After Listening to Mariah

 This letter is to my future husband.

Whoever you are, you're probably really hot!

The warmth of your soul will fill every room you enter.

The sunshine in your heart will melt a hardened soul.

The light in your eyes will flicker when paired with mine.

And your body will radiate as the love between ours intertwine.

And outside of that, I'm manifesting a really nice ass sooo yea, my future hubby is really fucking hot!

I'm writing this letter to say I'm sorry it's taken so long,

It's just; I wasn't ready to fall in love with you because I had to fall in love with me first.

I had to fall in love with the little girl that played with rocks in lieu of friends.

I had to fall in love with the middle school girl that often ate lunch alone.

I had to fall in love with the high schooler who no one asked to prom.

And I had to fall in love with the young woman who experienced her first kiss and first sexual assault in the span of 24-hours, thrice more within a year and found a way to blame herself for each and every one.

For a long time, I didn't think anyone would truly love me for me especially not you so I had to say fuck it and fall in love with me first.

I fell in love with the woman that is often described as positive vibes😊

I fell in love with the woman who gets called angry when speaking on human rights.

I fell in love with the woman who requires time alone but still requests time with friends.

And I fell in love with the woman who spoke on a statewide stage, threw an event that was covered in  newspapers, won an advocacy award, and in that same week had a shut-off notice waiting at her door.

I fell head overheels for that QUEEN!

Because she's a survivor, she's a thriver, and she deserves to be loved unconditionally.

So this is my letter to my future husband, admitting that I want to get married ---the kids and the white picket fence too.

But not at the expense of losing her, just to gain you.

I love you Zara Ayanna Salmon. I'm still falling in love with you but girl, I love you.

And I love you future husband for accepting me for me; and I promise to do the same for you.

So to my hot ass husband and the only man I will call my baby zaddyyyy

If you fall in love with all of me...then baby, I'm ready for all of you.