Categories
Poetry

a.m. autumn reflections 

rare pink aurora after solar storm, november 2022. Photo by: GREENLANDER.NO

a.m autumn reflections by sabr.

the crisp autumn wind welcomes winter 

within the comfort of cocoa and cinnamon, 

there lie the lessons. 

people come and go 

seasons change, we must let em go. 

there is no life without death 

there is no yin without yang 

we must always maintain the balance. 

shed our leaves, conserve our energy 

dive within, and commune with the divine. 

see that we’ve always been whole, 

everything we’ve ever needed has always been ours. 

remember growth emerges in the dark. 

Categories
Poetry Storytelling

Childhood fawn 

Childhood fawn By Kaija Long Crow

I mold myself to be whatever you want or need, I paid attention to your social cues. I noticed you give affection to those that pay their dues, this is the service conditioning of survival. Sometimes we fawn and end up as someone’s pawn left to deal with their shadows.

Adolescent fight and flight

Sometimes you just start hitting back, you get stuck in combat. And one-day cps takes you away, they then label you as a runner, that’s in your file now, they say “your like a little rebel warrior” we’re in denial now because I just didn’t wanna be at that place and, I didn’t choose to be this way. I need something to soothe it hurts to feel this way I can’t go to school, I mean really step in my body, it feels so heavy, and sometimes I can’t breathe what’s happening to me?

What they failed to convey, it’s spiritual warfare going on here. You’ll start to feel like you’re just better off fading away. You take a sip of alcohol and think maybe this’ll help me stay. pretty soon it’ll become a violent exchange with the person you fell in love with this is the person you’re supposed to struggle with you guys will get into everyday bawling brawling thinking love is pain and then suddenly you’ll realize what you thought was love wasn’t. Then you’ll meet this crazy beautiful girl, your soulmate you and her will Eat papers and plants and fly away together in her cool spaceship.

The wind hits and it’s warm, full of courage and wisdom, and guidance. This whole experience is what they call metanoia- a change in one’s way of life through penitence or spiritual conversion. Sometimes I think it was Katrina’s presence-RIP along with the psychedelics, what sparked a change in me and probably my brain. I started seeking sobriety, healing, and peace. This is something I had never seen

Big baby freeze!

At this point, you’re just running in place scared to face all that’s coming. You hop from one addiction to the next, self-diagnose to make it make sense, cry drunk cry high, cry night, and the next morning cry baby cry. They’re gonna tell you “You don’t need treatment you’re working and sober for most of the week.” Little do they know there are 5 younger siblings at home that don’t even know they’re the reason you haven’t gone ghost. I dissociate 4 times a day, & have 3 best friends who don’t really know what to do with my broken beaten lost, mind-body, and spirit. 2 sisters and cousins who are also going through it, and one baby nephew on his way.

I gotta break these chains, this cycle, and start paving the way. Creator knows all I ever wanted was to be better, for myself. Maybe that’s why I wrote this letter, but definitely, for our youth, they’re the ones that deserve better. 

Categories
Poetry

Peanut Butter & Ayat Al-Kursi

Peanut Butter & Ayat Al- Kursi

by Sagirah Shahid

When I broke my fast

peanut butter performed a minor exorcism.

Sat upon its stainless-steel throne before backing hunger into its cage.

I licked the spoon, and my tongue recited its everlasting presence on my breath.

In childhood, my grandmother taught me how to repeat the miracles of this spread. 

Like a sura, peanut butter wards off the evil I contain when I am not fed. Before Fajir 

after Maghrib, peanut butter to protect this vegetarian’s head. One taste and I can focus again.

Two scoops, and I drift into a brief heaven. Peanut butter encompassing my afterthoughts

swirl it with some warm honey and toast, then technically even sorcery can’t alter my vibe. 

This piece was first published by the Hennepin Review.