Droppin Dimes

Scared

2020-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

place is straight packed
I could not believe
My naive little eyes
watching a ravens game
during a late brunch
in a filled bar
surrounded by a pandemic

waiters crammed in between
at the bar, the tables, the bathroom
publicly smiling
secretly panicking

with us
eating our eggs, drinking our drinks
failing to convince each other
that business is as usual
and that
is the scariest part

(2023-06-01) Here I had just eaten inside a restaurant I think for the first time since before the COVID-19 pandemic. I felt nothing but anxiety the whole time we sat. I wore my mask. I tried to go to the bathroom when there weren’t many other people moving around or standing. Though it was eight months into the pandemic, the return to normalcy amazed me. No vaccines, not as much masking as there should’ve been. I didn’t feel ready. I’m not sure I feel ready now.

Survivors march down Hilton

2020-10-03T00:00:00+00:00

Their hearts heavy
Heads high
Watched over
By loved ones lost

Strivers march down hilton
Their fists raised
Waving in the crisp fall air
Cheered on
By residents passing by

Believers march down hilton
Their spirits wounded
But ever so alive
Chanting those magic words
Enough is Enough

I attended a peace walk on Hilton Road that started around Green Street Academy in southwest Baltimore. I represented the State’s Attorney’s Office for the Southwestern Police District at the time. We ended the walk standing in front of Freddy P March’s Funeral Home, where both my granparents held their viewings. Although gun violence did not take my grandparents, being back at the home returned a strong feeling of loss. Yet how beautiful it was to see so many people using their loved ones’ memories to fight to make those deaths the last of their kind.

Down time

2020-09-23T00:00:00+00:00

Stimulation pulls my brain
In like a magnet
Won’t let me go
Consumes all that I know

As I try to unwind
And process my time
Spent click clacking away all day
Faint buzzing
Loud chirping
Last night in

As I unite my thoughts
Out on a page
Craving release and peace
Separated from the exhausting stimulation

It rocks my head
At times filling it with dread
Instead of giving up I simply keep on
I keep on going
I write I stay free
From the stimulation

A doctor diagnosed me with ADD (now considered ADHD) when I was about six years old. As an adult, one of the most apparent symptoms I still feel is how my brain just never shuts off. There’s always wheels turning somewhere. I’ve journaled and wrote on and off my whole life, but I made it part of my routine in early 2017. Since then, writing’s helped me give my brain space to work and slow down.

Let us grow up

2018-05-06T00:00:00+00:00

ABCs 123s and Do-re-mis
School should set our children free
Rather than shackle their creativity
As they become target practice
Resulting from our nation’s inactivity

What message do we send?
With our barrage of benchmarks?
That it matters not what you learn
But what society comprehends

Surely there is value in shared understanding
But can our children advance our people on societal grandstanding?
You cannot task a generation with boundless expectation
While chastising their setbacks with consternation

Be strong
Be virtuous
Let your example rise up
Let our children grow up

I’m writing this on June 1st, 2023 and yet every word of the poem above remains relevant. Kids in school still must conduct active shooter drills and walk through the doors every day scared that some madman with a rifle will decide today’s the day. Kids in school still struggle, alongside their teachers, to convince those in power that spending each day doing nothing but prepping for high stakes tests is not the best use of anyone’s limited time on this earth. Kids in school still amaze me with their creativity, persistence, and brilliance. I hope with time, only the latter stays true.

Lahboul

2018-05-05T00:00:00+00:00

Welcome to Lahboul
Take in the sights
Of fools, ghouls, and tools
Without any rights

You can shield your eyes and ears
As you try desperately to blend
But your mere existence incites fear
Your futile urban camouflage amounts to a dead end

Creatures that look, talk, and walk the same
Pounce on the strange and exotic
And on those who do not play their game
Their world becoming jarringly chaotic

But don’t denigrate these mammals
For in the face of the unknown, failing to be cool
For we are all animals
In our own versions, of Lahboul

I walked by a beautiful park near every day when I studied abroad in Meknes, Morocco. Supposedly, there was a zoo somewhere tucked away in the sprawling gardens. I saw very few animals walking by that park. Definitely not enough to warrant a zoo. But that didn’t stop everyone from finding something to leer at. Many students at the center where I studied talked about how locals would stare at them when they walked around in groups. Women, Black students, Asian students, and gender non-conforming students experienced gawking more frequently and intensely just like they do in the states. Conversely, I remember students doing the same to local Moroccans during our study abroad particularly when we first arrived. Culture shock hits us all when we travel, especially those used to being a minority.