Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Open up? More like shut down.

For the first time in my life I am afraid when I see a police officer.  My brain knows it isn’t fair to judge a whole profession by the actions of a few. I know and love some lawyers. I know and love some probably future politicians, and some wrecker drivers and car sales people even though they have reputations for being a bit slimy.
But I always thought cops were heroes. That they were here to protect me, save my life and come when I was afraid. And now, when I am afraid, I am afraid to call them.
I thought they were respectful. That at least when I asked a police officer not to curse at me, he would stop. And instead of getting angrier, he would realize I was afraid, help calm me down. That when I told him the truth, he would believe me;he would understand. That he would WANT to understand and when he realized I was confused, he would help me.
But that didn't happen,  and I can’t seem to shake it.
My brain knows that most cops would die for me, possibly, even the very ones who have been hurtful.  I mean, I‘ve seen “Crash”, I’ve read Blink. My brain knows this is how bias begins, but I can’t convince my flesh not to crawl when a cop is near. I can’t convince my heart to beat slowly, my breath to stay steady even though I am doing nothing wrong, I know they have power that doesn’t always land down on the truth but at times on their perception of the truth because they are HUMAN.
I try to remind myself, God is my defender. Even Jesus was mistreated and falsely accused; to fear not, but my gut has yet to come along.
I am the one who always takes up for cops when they make a mistake. That hurts for them when they have accidentally shot someone in a split second decision that could have been prevented. I am the one who is scarred by that story in Blink because I know those guys will never be the same.
But now, thanks to a few mean cops, I will never think of them the same.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Remainders of Yesterday

Lines on my face
a pony tail crease
almonds in the cushion crack
Fabric cut from Gepetto's pants
strips of paper from a 
French dictionary and a T.S. poem 


for a birthday card.


paint brushes drying

For thine is the Kingdom
chantar, chantar

and words in my ear
about a Pope
a story, weird 
and cold


Peach Iced Tea
Iced Peach Tea
cane sugar and tiny black ants 
glue sticks
crouton crumbs and a laugh from a
grown boy even though 
I was a moment mad
Salt from images I took in

For Thine is

Leaves inside from the wind
Forcing its way-
A bully night I could take again.
Fists down, face in the wind.

Cherir. . .ah, Cherir.

Monday, May 10, 2010

If my mom had it her way, Mother's Day would be during football season.

My family and I are celebrating Mother's day at the Ranch House with my mom when Larry Fitzgerald, wide receiver for the Arizona Cardinals, shows up on the TV screen in a sports science episode. 
"Oh, look, " I say pointing to Larry catching a chicken and a salmon. "He said he could catch anything."
I turn to my little momma who leans forward to see past me. 
"How many more months before football season," I ask.
"Aaaah, Too long. I can't wait." She says pursing her lips.
"Me either. I've been having dreams that Barber got caught stealing because they cut him and he couldn't pay his bills. Maybe I should give football up again."
We decide to watch a movie after dinner and ask Momma what she wants to see. "Blindside" she replies, grinning widely. 
Of course. 
Back at her house, on the card table, I see the newly purchased Cowboy's Super Bowl DVD and laugh.
"I haven't watched those yet," she smiles. "Daddy just bought 'em." It might not be football season, but she has to have her little football fixes here and there. 
After watching Blindside, I found out she hadn't seen Friday Night Lights.
"No way. Are you serious? Well don't watch it without me."
Next weekend after we help my sister move into her apartment, we'll watch another little football nugget to help us limp through off-season.