Hallway to Nowhere

Category: poems

  • Grief-root

    This grief twists around me,

    A primordial root connected to the fundamental wailing

    Pulled from the the soul of the earth.

    My tears are the salt of the sea and the stream of the rain;

    They are water itself and life-

    Bitter and burning and flow.

    I scream so loud it swallows the universe.

    My laments echo down time’s corridors

    Like fell black-winged horses running a doomed apocalyptic race.

    My words are forever etched on the very pillars of creation itself.

    I am done.

  • What’s In A Name

    By now everyone knows that Kamala Harris is Biden’s pick for Veep. What everyone doesn’t know and can’t seem to get right and in some cases REFUSES TO CARE ABOUT (I’m looking hard at Tucker Carson here, among others) is how to pronounce her name. It’s Comma-la Harris. Like the punctuation mark with a la added. Just to make this clear, k? She has explained this in her memoir (The Truths We Hold: An American Journey); she’s explained time and time again in public interviews; and OTHER people have now made helpful Tik Tok videos to instruct the clueless. Look, folks, this should not be that difficult. UNLESS you have a political WALL that forbids it.

    Why am I writing about this? Because I share her story. I live in rural Southwest Virginia. Appalachia. And my name is Kel BasAvraham. Yeah. You can imagine what folks here do with THAT. I sometimes get asked (on the phone) if this is Indian (no); Muslim (no); Arabic (no); Indian (meaning Native American-again no); and very occasionally Jewish (YES). Usually, it’s “Sorry for mangling your name.” But rarely does anyone ask the logical followup: HOW IS IT SUPPOSED TO BE PRONOUNCED? Sometimes I can feel the waves of “you’re not from around here, are you?” coming through the phone line or in modern parlance, bouncing off the cell tower. I now have a practised response: a laugh and a reply that I realize my name gives SW Virginians fits and, no, I’m NOT from around here. Then we get on with with our phone call. Sigh.

  • Brisance (Poem)

    Three words, one death.

    A shattered world.

    It revealed the wreckage

    And ruination of lives

    That always comprised the kaleidoscope base

    That upheld the white edifice of power.

    Time for that fraudulent wedding cake to be seen

    As filled with mold and baked with hate.

    Throw it out into the trash where it belongs.

    Let it burn away.

    We need real food that feeds Black people.

    Brown people. First Nations. White people.

    No more useless fake white cake.

  • Invisible Disabilities

    When you’ve lived with any sort of neuro or mental health diagnosis, you start to really question your perception of things and second, third, and fourth guess yourself. At least I do. I ask myself, “Am I seeing this clearly? How much is depression talking? Is this a medication reaction? Did I forget something important b/c of a seizure?” Life gets complicated. I have to remind myself that I DO have several disabilities that I cope with fairly well that others don’t see. They are invisible but nevertheless very real. But b/c maybe I do manage, I feel like I expect myself to function like I’m normal, i.e., don’t have these things, and thereby others act as if I am also.

    I’m not, okay? I’m not okay. I function WHILE depressed. I function WHILE having seizures. I function while having migraines. I function WHILE having occasional bouts of neuropathic pain that are excruciating. I function WHILE having Stage 1 Chronic Kidney Disease. I function while having debilitating fatigue of unknown origin. I function well sometimes. And sometimes I crash.

    So. I really want to do a better job here for myself. I want to continue to do my tasks, b/c I believe in the causes for which I’ve signed up. But I also need to realize that I need to ask for help when I can use it; space when I’m being crowded; time when I’m being pushed; and to know when I’ve reached my limits. This does not seem like an unreasonable agenda, but it is not an easy one when every day get filled so quickly. Sigh. Time to write another MEMO TO SELF and post it PROMINENTLY.

  • End Of The Day (Poem)

    There is no magic here.

    No-one will come to save you

    With a wave of their wand

    Or with fiery breath and beating wings.

    Not in this poem.

    You’ll have to save yourself,

    And however you do that is up to you.

    I write these days of desiccation and dearth,

    With arid phrase and acrid wit.

    Seek no comfort;

    I have none to offer.

    Other than: I am here.

    The road not taken…..

  • Questions (Poem)

    How do I die?

    (How do I live?)

    What do I take?

    (What do I give?)

    Where am I from?

    (Where am I now?)

    How do I BE?

    (HOWWWL?)

    https://youtu.be/fGnfAcLVp90https://youtu.be/fGnfAcLVp90

  • Being In Community

    What does it mean to be part of a community? I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. I have a disparate group of friends, you see. They don’t overlap, except for the intersection of me. In each, I have encountered difficult people and befriended them. This might seem like odd behavior on my part. But I view myself an outsider in many ways and am aware that others might also. Perhaps I am also seen as a difficult person by some. But these particular people I write of do not have many friends, due to their habit of driving others away. I don’t let their peculiarities upset me unduly, nor take their actions or words personally most of the time, even when they might be directed at me. I realize that more is going than I can know and act with detachment and kindness as much as I can. Because THESE, just as much as the people who like me and WHOM I LIKE AND GET ALONG WELL WITH, are my neighbors. THESE represent my community also. If you say that your neighbor is ONLY they whom you like, then your definition of family is stunted indeed. In my definition of how to be in community, I was taught that all of my NEIGHBORS count: good, bad, indifferent. And you help ALL OF THEM, whether you LIKE them or not; whether they LIKE you or not; no matter WHAT. And this includes reaching out to the lonely; checking on the person who lives alone; and hanging in there even when the going gets rough. Not because we’re all in this together. But because this is how it works. OR doesn’t. How’s it working, from where you sit? I’m hearing that it’s not, really. I’m hearing that from both my groups. Are there answers? I don’t know. My answers are the same three sentences I read every morning. I have them written down on a piece of paper on my kitchen counter. BE KIND. DON’T ASSUME. TRY HARDER.

  • Harbinger (Poem)

    I have fallen into dereliction,

    Such decay heralding future loss.

    Something is approaching over the horizon.

    I can hear its soft skeletal hoof beats

    Clattering clickety clack, clickety clack.

    The dread beast approaches.

    I laugh in welcome and toss it my heart,

    A worthless organ but still a sacrificial deed.

  • Second-wave Feminism And The Fight Against Racism

    I was listening to a friend’s cri du cuour over fighting racism. I have some thoughts on the subject. Remember that old second wave feminist slogan THE PERSONAL IS POLITICAL? Boy, howdy, whoever came up with that MUST have been from Appalachia. B/c that is how I’m seeing the battle against racism and white privilege fought here. It is being waged on a home-front battleground: in conversations in pick-up trucks on the way to Lowes; talks over family dinners; chats on transit on the way to Krogers; exchanges in front of that Confederate statue on Main; LTEs in the paper; groups teachers formed themselves in the school system; the swift retirement of a police chief. THIS is how change happens here. It might not be as swift as we wish. It might not be the sweeping overhaul we want nor need. But it IS reflective of the way we have conversations and conduct business that are ongoing with those messy things that are human beings. And I believe, to quote Sam Cooke, a change is gonna come.

  • “We’re All In This Together” : FALSE!

    During a Zoom meeting last night, one of the participants repeated this phrase several times. By the second reiteration, I wanted to PM her and ask, “Seriously? You STILL think this?” But not the time or place. So here we go, b/c apparently some of you out there do believe that this hackneyed phrase applies. I’ll even do it bullet-point, to make it extra simple for you:

    The United States has the highest number of COVID-19 cases (both infections and deaths) in the WORLD. I’m not listing the number here, b/c it changes so rapidly. And that is not a RESULT of our (poorly administered) testing; indeed, it is a glaring indictment. Most credible medical expects think the number is much higher than the number we know, because we still aren’t doing things like contact tracing. Due to the hodgepodge manner in which states were forced to address this on their own, rather than have it addressed on a national systemic level for EVERYONE, we’re seeing states reopen, close again, while cases and deaths continue to rise.

    • WHO is affected by COVID-19 in terms of severity is wildly disproportionate. African Americans and Latinos have been much harder hit (as in likely to be hospitalized and die) from this than whites, while having less access to heathcare resources. Seniors and those with preexisting health problems are both at risk groups, as we’ve seen COVID-19 decimate nursing homes and assisted living facilities. Those who are lower-income have fared less well, though they get less press than glittery celebs who got infected. (See, they were TRYING to show us that they’re human, too! And I know that some died. I’m sorry.)
    • How you survived during quarantine would vary. If you had money to cushion the nest, that helped. IF you had a social network to call upon to help with the isolation, that helped. If you HAD INTERNET (and where I live, this is NOT a given for people!), this would be your absolute lifeline. But for some: those surviving on a limited income; those who live alone and had no social circle: those who depended upon public outlets such as the library and the Community Center: this must have been a nightmare.
    • Essential workers. Let’s mention for minute about how THEY might feel about this “ALL IN IT” nonsense. Healthcare workers who couldn’t get needed PPE? Those unseen who work (often at minimum wage) to keep healthcare facilities OPERATING? How about grocery workers; warehouse workers and those who harvest the food we depend upon? Those who work in the meat-processing plants that keep getting shut down b/c of COVID-19 outbreaks?
    • Masks and social distancing. By now everyone knows that wearing a mask will help prevent the spread of COVID-19. Or at least, everyone has HEARD this info. But obviously not everyone believes it. Or cares. Or thinks it more important than their individual liberty or political belief or whatever. They are content to let OTHERS do the work (wearing a mask) for THEM and also to put OTHERS (those of us wearing masks) in harms way. In other words, they DGAF about the rest of us.

    I could go on. But you get my point. We are in NO WAY “all in this together”. Like everything ELSE humans do, we are divided by our beliefs, our values, our culture. I could get discouraged here. I DO get discouraged. But then again, I’ve never expected much from humanity taken en masse. My motto is: expect the worst and do the best I can.