by Carmen Mojica
I sit by midnight oil, penning the last of my writings, the first of my talents and the middle of my travels as a memoir dedicated to her and her femininity.
To you, my colleagues, I raise my glass of Merlot and toast to the end of the prelude to the perfect storm; you’ve been kept in the shadows of the world’s minstrel show and…
This goes to all my women who just felt the call to nurture the civilization deep in their fertile cavities. To all my men who just understood the meaning of what their duties truly entail.
For those of you waiting for the revolution, it’s happening now. In the streets of El Barrio and off the curves of beautiful goddesses screaming revolution into the ears of their children so that the first words they whisper are “peace be with you.” In late night ciphers, passing poetry through our tired bodies from our lips and off the fingertips of the guitar player professing his own music in a form that brings tears to the eyes of the artist. It’s happening.
He will paint the first and last mural of his lifetime….and it will be a masterpiece.
Because it’s happening now. From the mouths of poets who never asked to be gifted with words but realize they are the writers of the anthologies, the new morning after the strippers slink off the beams in the ruins of downtown Manhattan, and from the feet of break dancers projecting 108 different postures of perfection over the hip-hop beat that isn’t just music anymore…this is inevitable and…..
Only the paintbrush will save us. And there is no other army but those with insatiable urges to project our beauty onto concrete walls in neighborhoods that feel like death touched them and never returned their life.
We speak of the apocalypse as though we still have eons of time to retreat…the time to reload is now, rejuvenate, revive and replenish the missing components of an unsatisfying polluted version of reality.
Pick up pen and pad and write. Take music, make it loud and dance.
Realize we are the center of us and that as significant as we are, we are equally insignificant.
Lay on my back and stare up into the sky on the clearest night of the most perfect day.
It will be okay, even when it looks like the end is near.
What is the end of the story if not the beginning of another?
This is your near-life experience. Take it.
Carmen Mojica is a poet and writer. She is a student in the art of holistic health practices and is on the path of helping the people around her, particularly women. She has completed a memoir about her journey to self-love and is currently writing a novel.
