"Public Pool"

By Autumn Gomez

Engulfed in summer heat
Clear water over a blue bottom
Lounge chairs as far as the eye can see
Bare feet running on wet concrete
Yes, this is the bubbling center
Of life, of humanity

An old man sits,
His legs crossed at the ankle
Wearing socks and tennis-shoes
Green and white Hawaiian trunks
A shirt that says, simply, 'Weenie'

Of course, there are children
They are the most prominent thing 'round here
Laughter, laughter, laughter
Splashing, screaming, sneaking
(Breaking rules)
Adorability in huge, brightly colored goggles

Life guards, pacing and watching
Checking their watches
Dragging life-saving contraptions behind them
Like a ball and chain, ball and chain

Teenagers, interacting awkwardly
Trying to pretend they don't notice
Their childhood friend's newly formed
Breasts and muscles
Confused, torn between
Civility and primal urges

Ah and the blessed parents
Trying to relax,
Few actually achieving relaxation
They sit nervously,
Imagining all the horrible possibilities

Then there's me, the poetic observer
Am I the only one who notices
In this place, the sky always looks bluer
The clouds bigger, puffier, whiter
The persistent sound of water
Constantly moving

Does anyone else realize
The sun is a lover?
She kisses my skin
Pressing her burning lips
Against my pale bare skin
She leaves little red kisses
And freckles on my milky flesh
Intermittently, thick patches pass
In front of her shinning glorious love
Giving my flesh a small, yet, appreciated break
From her blistering passion.

This place is the reason I dread winter.

I woke up in a Nightmare

I wish I could have taken a nap today...an all day nap...maybe even longer.

Today was not a good day. Actually, the previous sentence is an understatement. I started crying around 11pm and didn't stop until 2am, after losing my temper on the boys for refusing to go to bed. I came very close to a complete and utter mental break-down with suicidal thoughts and all, but please do not be concerned as I have managed to get my head back above the water. I just hope that I can keep it there,

Pete has been sick for a week now. He has missed several days of work and his job is in jeopardy. That is not good at all. His income is the only income in our household. If he were to lose his job, chances are that we would lose our home. The thought of being homeless again terrifies me. Also, the fact that Pete is an illegal alien makes his chances of finding a job around here slim to none, especially finding a job that at least pays $7.50/hour and a boss that doesn't treat him like a slave. The whole prospect is worrisome to say the least. It is killing me to watch him in pain. He needs a doctor. He needs treatment, but we do not have the money for these. He fever has been on for three days now. He can't walk. His big toe joint is swollen to five times the normal size. His knee is inflamed beyond belief. He cannot even bend it. It appears to be completely disfigured. From the waist down, on his right side, he doesn't even look human. His lower spine seems to also be affected. All of these areas are extremely hot to the touch. He's also having severe stomach pain. I assume that part is from the amount of Aleve that he is taking every day to combat the pain. He's taking a very unhealthy amount, way more than the bottle recommends. He cries out in pain intermittently all night long. He curses and asks God why. I'm awake all hours with him. I keep begging him to let me take him to the hospital, but he will not go. He says he doesn't want to bother my grandma about watching the kids and that we already owe the hospital too much money. I don't blame him. From past experiences when these attacks have happened, we have went to the hospital, they never give us answers. They only give him a hydrocodone and send him home. I just want this to be over. I would give anything to see him healed, but I don't think it's going to happen. I fear this thing will eventually cripple him. After the attacks are finished, they always leave him a little more disfigured than he was before. We can hardly find shoes wide enough to fit his feet anymore. I'm really frightened.



Another thing that has happened is that I have had to break tie with yet another of my family members. This time, my aunt on my father's side. She hurt me deeply. It breaks my heart that my family is so incredibly dysfunctional, abusive, manipulative, selfish, unloving, and apathetic. It seems like every day I feel more alone in this world. I have to give my mother credit, though. She really is trying to build a relationship, but she is afflicted, which always has and continues to make having a relationship with her difficult. My father, God love him, is unable to be in relationship with anyone as he is bed-ridden and quadrapeligic. It may be wrong of me, but I wish that I had someone, anyone to lean on. I grow tired of always having to be strong, always having to be the one that gives and gives, but never receives. I don't blame my parents. I know that even if they wanted to be there for me, they are unable to do so, as has been the entire length of my life. The only other family I have is my dear grandmother. She helps me in a physical sense, but it is impossible to talk with her. I'm not sure why that is, but that is just the way it is and always has been. We work side by side to get everything finished that needs to be finished and to care for all that need cared for, but it seems we are both to weary to speak to eachother or even acknowledge the others prescence. Besides that, I really have no one. My friends are nowhere nowadays. It seems we have all grown far apart. I try to talk to them, but they have no compassion, always turning the conversation back to the topic of themselves. Some of my closets friends, who I have always felt a strong bond with are drifting away. They are too busy having fun, partying, going out, etc. Those are all things that I used to do, but no longer do and I think it has caused seperation between us. There are others who have changed completely into someone I do not know anymore and it's almost like I can not understand them, nor can I understand them. It feels as though every single conversation that I have been a part of in the last few months has ended badly and I walk away feeling more depressed and hopeless than I was before attempting to make contact with another human being. I feel completely isolated and alone. I need some kind of connection with another, but at this point, I'm afraid to even try anymore. I can't risk adding anything more to the burden that I'm feeling.

In school I'm not doing well at all. I dropped one class in hopes that it would give me more time and energy to focus on the other classes. I'm way behind on my work in those classes and not faring well at all. As for the grades that I am earning, they are not good at all. With everything that is going on in my life and the lack of encouragement that I am experiencing, it's hard to be motivated or to focus on anything. Sometimes, I wonder if I will ever have a degree in hand. I'm almost thirty years old and have accomplished nothing. My life is slipping by and I have yet to reach any of the dreams that I set for myself to achieve as a much younger woman. What I really want to do is write and I have some great ideas but I never follow through to the end, always losing interest before I get half way in. I'm starting to feel as if my life has been a waste. I find myself constantly questioning the purpose of my own existence. Perhaps my life was never really meant to be. It is hard because I blame myself for being a complete and utter screw-up and for all the foolish decisions that I have made based on my belief in love, faith, miracles, and goodness, but I also can not help, but feel that I was disadvantaged from birth. I keep trying to figure out how that part is my fault, but I can only find compassion and sympathy for the innocent child that I once was. Perhaps it is my destiny to eternally fail at everything I ever attempt to do. I just hope it is not a curse that I pass on to my children. This is not the life I imagined for myself or my children, but it seems that no matter how I try, I can not escape this hellish nightmare.

A Letter to Martin Luther King Jr

Dear Dr. King,

When I see an image of you, I get a strange feeling; A feeling that is most peculiar and unfamiliar. There is a trembling inside of me, a surge of nervous energy passes through me. I can't quite describe the feeling. It is respect mixed with reverence. I also feel mourning over the fact that you are long gone and there is no one to stand against the generation of oppressors that I am now living in. I wish there were more men and women like you in this world.

Simply looking upon your face evokes a feeling of empowerment. I'm not speaking of the type of empowerment that lifts a man above God and other men in his own mind. I'm talking about the kind of empowerment that one feels when he is in the center of God's will and in unity with God's other creatures. You, sir, were a diamond in the ruff of society. Every man should look to your example if he's interested in learning what it is that God expects of men, just as you looked at Christ to learn from His example.

Like your namesake, Martin Luther, who nailed his grievances to the door of society's powerhouse of his day, taking a stand and leading men on a mission to find truth, you nailed your grievances to the front door of the facade of a free society and led this nation out of the dark and barren land of hatred and injustice, toward the promised land of social justice and equality for all.

Sometimes, I think of how great it would have been if YOU had been our nation's first African American president, but, you, my hero, were not a politician. You were too real. The presidency would have never withstood such a man, with an absence of malice in his soul.

I often read your words and am amazed. I often long to here your voice when I'm feeling defeated. I find sound clips on the internet of your "I Have a Dream" speech or "Letter From the Birmingham Jail" and I close my eyes and listen to your voice, so powerful, filled with love and conviction. I try to imagine what it would have been like to know you, to have been your friend. Sometimes, I pretend that you are my father, after all, you were like a father to the oppressed. You adopted us all, took us under your wing. You cleaned the dirt from our faces and taught us how to stand straight and tall in the midst of adversity, how to walk in peace with the whole world is hungry for our suffering, how to march for what is right in a blind and hedonistic society. You gently wiped away the scars of victimization and placed over us a banner, proclaiming 'We Will Overcome!' Your powerful voice drowned out the other voices in our heads that told us that we would never be free.

All the things that you fought against have not been completely eradicated from our society. They still linger in the shadows around certain people groups that are a part of American society---undocumented immigrants and the poor come to my mind.

Thank you for opening our nations eyes, giving hope to the oppressed, and ultimately dying in order to do so. I pray that all oppressed people learn to be courageous as you were and that, one day, we will have a nation that fully realizes and lives in the reality of your dream! May you words continue to be the arrows that pierce the hearts of the apathetic!


A Modern Day Sister for Justice and Equality,

Autumn






Some of my favorite Martin Luther King Jr. Quotes:


An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.


“Everybody can be great...because anybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.” 

“Love is the only force capable of transforming

an enemy into a friend.”

All men are interdependent. Every nation is an heir of a vast treasure of ideas and labor to which both the living and the dead of all nations have contributed.... We are everlasting debtors to known and unknown men and women....

If an American is concerned only about his nation, he will not be concerned about the peoples of Asia, Africa, or South America. Is this not why nations engage in the madness of war without the slightest sense of penitence? Is this not why the murder of a citizen of your own nation is a crime, but the murder of citizens of another nation in war is an act of heroic virtue?

One who breaks an unjust law must do so openly ... and with a willingness to accept the penalty.

Never forget that everything Hitler did in Germany was legal.

"As long as there is poverty in the world I can never be rich, even if I have a billion dollars. As long as diseases are rampant and millions of people in this world cannot expect to live more than twenty-eight or thirty years, I can never be totally healthy, even if I just got a good checkup at the Mayo Clinic. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. This is the way our world is made. No individual or nation can stand out boasting of being independent. We are all interdependent." - Martin Luther King

“We are prone to judge success by the index of our salaries or the size of our automobiles rather than by the quality of our service and relationship to mankind.” 

"Many people fear nothing more terribly than to take a position which stands out sharply and clearly from the prevailing opinion. The tendency of most is to adopt a view that is so ambiguous that it will include everything and so popular that it will include everybody.

Not a few men who cherish lofty and noble ideals hide them under a bushel for fear of being called different." 

“At times we may feel that we do not need God, but on the day when the storms of disappointment rage, the winds of disaster blow and the tidal waves of grief beat against our lives, if we do not have a deep and patient faith our emotional lives will be ripped to shreds.  There is so much frustration in the world because we have relied on gods rather than God.”

“Science investigates; religion interprets. Science gives man knowledge, which is power; religion gives man wisdom, which is control. Science deals mainly with facts; religion deals mainly with values. The two are not rivals.”

My Boys Are SNOW Cute!

The color of springtime is in the flowers, the color of winter is in the imagination.  ~Terri Guillemets

Winter came down to our home one night
Quietly pirouetting in on silvery-toed slippers of snow,
And we, we were children once again.
~Bill Morgan, Jr.

"Hear! hear!" screamed the jay from a neighboring tree, where I had heard a tittering for some time, "winter has a concentrated and nutty kernel, if you know where to look for it."  ~Henry David Thoreau, 28 November 1858 journal entry

The tendinous part of the mind, so to speak, is more developed in winter; the fleshy, in summer.  I should say winter had given the bone and sinew to literature, summer the tissues and the blood.  ~John Burroughs

Black-Haired Blue-Eyed Lover (Revised)

I once had a Lover

Full of theories

On life and love

In the darkness

He said to me

“If a woman is satisfied,

After the fact,

She never reaches

For a cigarette pack.”

I laid by the side of

This man, who had died

From ecstasy

Listening to him speak of

Dreams, music, memories

The high price of cheese.

Then, I levitated

Off the bed,

Unaware of my nudity,

And softly played the bongo

To the rhythm of

His speech.

Clothed in his

Paisley print shirt,

Bending wire hangers

Into the shape of Cadillacs

Admiring all of the

Musical attributes of Ledbelly

His southern, black, old-timey

Voice wafting from speakers,

Injecting our ear drums,

Coursing through

Our thoughts, feelings, emotions

Each note possessing

An eternal soul

While standing on the bridge,

Gazing down on black water,

I saw Mozart’s Ghost hovering,

All the Caddy doors burst open wide,

Inviting him inside,

His symphonic reverberating apparition

Rode shotgun.

Snowflakes melting

On burning skin

Heat radiating from within

I felt no cold

That blustery night

Holding your naked, warm body

Ever so tightly

Against the icy

Bitter breeze of maturity.

Playing your guitar

Sweetly singing to

Your audience;

The moon and the stars,

I, an honored guest of

Celestial beings and

Ancient, flaming rocks

Reflecting the sun’s glory on

Your dreamer’s face

Making you shine and illuminate

At mid-night

A dark and lonely place

In that moment,

I was unafraid to

Stand in the desolation of

The human race.

Perfect song for this day!!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=geY0f6peEtc&feature=related

First Day of Spring Semester 2012

First of all, I want to thank all of you for following my blog! Today, I'm going to share an excerpt from my personal journal. This entry was made this morning:

Monday, January 9, 2012
8:10 am

     After three hours of sleep, eating a half of a bag of Frito's corn chips (I would have eaten the whole bag, but there was only half left.), drinking thirty-two ounces of Cherry Coke (Or was it Dr. Pepper? I'm not sure since my husband picked it up for me at SkyMart after depositing the kids at their bus stop, God bless him. They taste pretty much the same, especially when your senses are dulled by a lack of sleep.), and smoking four whole cigarettes (one after another), I think I am ready for my first day of classes. Let Spring Semester 2012 begin!
     Today is going to be a ridiculously long day. I will be leaving in a little more than an hour and I won't be home until approximately 9:30 pm. That's ten and a half hours! I may as well get used to it. This is how my Mondays are going to be from now until sometime in May.
     The thing that keeps going through my mind is; I'm not going to get to see the kids all day! :( I didn't even wake up in time to see the older three before Pete ushered them off to the bus stop. He woke me up as he was walking out the door with them, so that I could sit with Manny and wait for his pre-school bus (It comes to our front door. I like pre-school so much more than elementary school! It's much more personal and uncomplicated.) Anyway, now I'm kicking myself for not getting up before the older three children were already on their way out the door. It bothers me to think they will not hear their mother's voice saying, "I love you" at all today. No child, if their mother is living, should ever have to go all day without feeling their mother's embrace or hearing the words, "I love you". That's just my honest opinion.
     I could not sleep last night as hard as I tried. My mind would not turn off. The last time I remember looking at the clock, it was all aglow with red numbers that told me that it was 4:37 in the a.m. So, when Pete woke me up at around 7, I had an incredibly hard time convincing myself that sleep time was over. As a matter of fact, I probablly would've just rolled over and re-visited dreamland if it hadn't been for my sweet, sweet Manny, standing there with those big brown eyes, in his Spiderman snow boots up to his knees, and an armful of books at my bedside. When I saw his face through fuzzy, Chinese eyes and heard his excited, small voice telling me all about his new books and how much he loves them, I couldn't help, but covet his energy and cheerfulness. I also felt the heaviness and sorrow of a missed opportunity. I am referring to the fact that I didn't get to see the other kids before they left. But, Manny, he was still here and depending on me to make sure that he was all bundled up against the chilly morning air, his cheeks were covered with enough kisses to get him through the day, and that he made it safely onto his little yellow bus when it arrived.
     I forced myself through the fogginess that seemed to be plastering me to the bed and threw off the security of my thick, warm blanket, unwilling to lose this; My last opportunity to be mommy for the day. I would be in the role of college student for most of the day, but I had this small window of time to be mommy and I was thankful for it. As I got him ready, I let him do most of the talking (as usual..lol). He told me all about his books and I even got to read him half of one of them before the bus arrived. I bundled him up, covered him with kisses, told him how much I love him, and walked him out, hand-in-hand to his waiting school bus. As I watched the bus disappear around a corner, I took in a deep breath of fresh air, and I felt somewhat redeemed, though not completely, for missing the same opportunity to do the same with the older kids, but there's not much I can do about that, is there? Except hope and pray that they didn't notice or weren't effected by the lack of my prescence, although, I'm sure they were. Pete takes good care of them, but he's not a very affectionate man, especially after being woke up several times through the night by his insane and insomniac wife's reading, writing, and rustlings about.
     After standing on the sidewalk, lost in my thoughts for quite sometime, I went back inside and took a look around. My house is a complete and utter wreck! I cursed myself for pissing away my weekend. Now I won't be able to clean until tomorrow afternoon. I imagine I will be exhausted when I get home tonight. I have to leave for class at 7:30 a.m. tomorrow morning and I won't get home until around noon. I guess the house will just have to be a thorn in my side until then.

I've been thinking a lot about life lately. Sometimes we think of life as an unexhaustable well. Then something happens to remind us that this is not true. Today I'm remembering very vividly my first bitter taste of death. It was seven years ago when my grandfather left this world. I know it sounds silly, but I thought my grandpa would live forever. I thought he was too tough to die. When I think of him a quote that I once heard in a movie comes to mind. "There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die." My grandpa was definately one of a kind. This made a lot of people dislike him, but it's what I loved the most about him. He never seemed to exist in the present. He was always lumbering somewhere between the past and the future. He was a rebel at any cost. Sometimes it cost him a lot to be who he was. I always admired him for who he was. He was beautiful. To me, he was a snow-white haired enigma with sparkling blue eyes, who used to bounce me on his knee and pay me a quarter to style his hair. He had a deep belly laugh. When he laughed his whole body shook. He used to stand by the window and watch the world outside. He was content just watching the world. He would hold baby Cris with one arm and point to whatever caught his eye outside, whether it be a bird's nest full of newborn robins or big fluffy white clouds or Christmas lights. He told stories that enthralled me, but always ended sadly. He picked wild flowers and gave them to me. He had a sense of humor like no other and, boy, did that man love to eat! I used to dance around his chair, spining and spining and he would grin. When he died, a part of me died too. The day a lost him, a hole began to form in my soul. The expirience opened a Pandora's box of emotion and fear within me. Many things have entered in through that darkness. I miss him every day.

I Don't Feel Much Like Writing....

Since I don't feel much like writing, I'll share some pictures and favorite quotes with you all. This is my family.

I missed you even when I was with you. That’s been my problem. I miss what I already have, and I surround myself with things that are missing. -Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

If I could stay in one moment forever it would be driving down a country road on a summer night, Pete holding my hand and whistling a lullaby. The kids hugged up in the back seat falling asleep, each ones head on anothers shoulder. -Me

God grant me the courage not to give up what I think is right even though I think it is hopeless. ~Chester W. Nimitz

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!” Jack Kerouac

"Crossing an international border to support your family and pursue dreams of a better life is not an inherently criminal act like rape or robbery. If it were, then most of us descend from criminals. As the people of Texas know well, the large majority of illegal immigrants are not bad people. They are people who value family, faith and hard work trying to live within a bad system." The Libertarian Party Website

Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away. ~Dinah Craik