the little girl inside of me always has one constant want: protection. in a perfect world, the foundation of protection starts off with the lion and the tigress defending their liger cub, running off of the pure adrenaline of instinct. i never had my lion and tigress quiet the parts of me that actually need their protection. they have always protected the shell, but my heart feels like it comes second. they have trampled my heart while being consumed in their own paths, never understanding my soul because they view me through their own downfalls. i often feel invisible when pit against their rain. my heart longs for them to really see me, to hear my soul and to always protect it in a way that actually quiets my soul, but amplifies my voice. i want their faith in my righteousness, not to always believe i will fall on my knees. even as my body grew from girl to woman, i always longed for their instinct to protect. but all i get is the slam down to be quiet as they selfishly did anything for their desires. as a woman with broken kin, i shouldn't have been surprised when time shifted my role from cub to full grown responsibility in a matter of seconds. i don't want to get into details. i don't want to get into details because if i did, i wouldn't want to hear your judgement. i would have to cut you at the knees because only i can say they were awful. only i can say my soul they spoiled. they may not be perfect, but they are my world. and for this reason, i carry a weight in my heart that rages against the silence that they never say thank you or i'm sorry. being the only one who truly knows them at their worst, but protects them in a way they never protected me weights down on my soul. if i had one wish, it would be for that silence to be broken. more than anything, i want my heart to come first. but i know because i want it so bad... Mother, Father...hear my cry.
When my two dear friends, aspiring journalist Elizabeth Ramanand and promising film student Alisandra Karimullah, told me that they were going to London, I had a great idea. The night before they left, I bought some postcards from Barnes and Noble and during dinner and on the bus ride home, I wrote a poem on each postcard. I wrote most of these poems on my phone, while talking to a friend who has been one of my greatest inspirations. I gave the girls a mission. It was simple. Place these postcards in random places in London. And take a picture of where you placed it. I may have not been able to do it myself, but I wanted to feel like I was a part of the journey. This is the result of that. You can go to my photo gallery to see the actual photos. It's the last set on the page: between me&you: postcards to london.
I wished I could have been there! It's exciting to know that somewhere in the world, someone may pick up one of those postcards and read my work. I asked the girls how the experience was for them. "I really felt like I was on a mission and it made me take a closer look at places we went to as well. We tried to look for cards that may go with the place. We payed attention to the color of the phone booth and which postcard would pop or we tried looking for cracks and crevices in landmark places. It was really cool," said Elizabeth Ramanand. I love their choices. Though there were challenges along the way that I didn't think about. "The experience was somewhat challenging with the weather, we were trying to find a proper place for the postcards so they don't fly way. So that originally limited some really cool places (on the London Bridge itself), but then we got creative (the tourist attraction of the old school London Telephone booth)," said Alisandra Karimullah. "I am hoping that your poetry does reach someone who is willing to seek out your work and visit your website. All in all the mission was a success and I had a blast taking part in it." I'm glad that it was fun for them. I was in suspense the whole time they were away. But it turned out great. I would love to do more stuff like this. Maybe locally. Or hmmm, anyone planning a vacation? |
Christina D. RodriguezA Latinx poet and entrepreneur who blogs about poetry, music, writing, and life. Archives
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