HastyWords's Blog, page 35
April 2, 2019
CHURNING
I feel the whole world
sometimes
as it spins in my soul
connected
to them, to you, to us
meeting
the old, the new, the yet
searching
every story told for truth
folding
all the wisdom into hope[image error]
March 4, 2019
TURNING TABLES
[image error]
I can feel you
Slinking around
In my periphery
You’re waiting
For me to search
My surroundings
To find the cause
Of my unease
You’re loving
Every second
Of my discomfort
But…
My apprehension
Isn’t real
I am playing
To your fantasy
I secretly delight
In being the one
That’ll expose
The terrors
You’ve planned
Behind calm
Kind eyes
Underneath
Charming smiles
Inside helpful
Strong hands
All the while
Daydreaming
Of my demise
As you stalk me
But…
I was stalking
You first
March 3, 2019
#BeREAL – MICHAEL JASON ALLEN
I first met Micheal Jason Allen when my daughter and I signed up to be extras on a movie set. My best friend Yousef Kazemi wrote and was directing a movie called The Stand-in. Follow its progress here.
He was a well-dressed man (because we were in the wedding party) with a bowtie and a big beard telling us dad jokes. He had a wonderfully warm smile and was a joy to meet. Since then I have learned more about community volunteering from him than anyone else in my nearly 50 years of life.
I hope you check out all the organizations he has listed. There are communities just like Oklahoma City’s all across the country… all over the world. I hope you look them up and donate or share their efforts. They are ran by compassionate and loving people who care about overwhelming a world that is drowning in hate with as much love as they can muster.
So let’s be real for a few and welcome Michael.
[image error]
Hasty asked me why I help with homelessness. I struggled to find a good answer. There are so many things motivating my need to help. Besides having my own personal experiences, I have absorbed and internalized many of the stories my friends have shared with me. Being a veteran, it is also near and dear to my heart because many vets have been thrown to the wayside and forgotten.
For as long as I can remember I have always wanted to help people. I remember going to church and being fascinated by missionary work. Much of my family believed I would go into missionary work when I got older. Well, as life goes, that didn’t happen. I still had the passion but found my way away from the church while still abiding by a lot of morals and principles they held.
I found myself very curious about the homeless. Why were people homeless? I had no clue. So I built my own thoughts based off movies and word of mouth. I ended up having empathy because movies seemed to demonize homeless as lesser. I remember the sadness I felt when I realized this.
My momma used to tell me a story, I don’t personally remember, when we were in Tennessee. I asked if we could order an extra meal for the homeless man outside. Sadly, we couldn’t because we were on a strict budget. The story has resonated in my head every since she told it to me.
As I got older, I was able to make more educated decisions and do more of what I believed versus what I was told was truth. Of course, I started challenging authority. I kept getting into trouble and was headed down a pretty bad path. I ran away from home multiple times and spent many of nights trying to find a place to stay. I would stay in drug dealer’s homes, abandoned homes, or if it was a nice night I would just go to my favorite park. It was these moments I would often reminisce about my preconceived notions on homelessness.
One day it just slapped me across the face and realized I needed to get my shit together. I was tired of running and I was only 15. Even after I could drive I still chose a life that wasn’t on a great path. I imagine momma was at her wits end with me. Then I met a girl and at the age of 17 my first child was born. I was a dad. I had responsibility. I had to get my shit together for real this time. He needed a dad and something constant in his life.
I enlisted in the Air Force, not only out of a love for my country, but to help support my family and give them all the opportunity to succeed. By the time I was 22 I had 3 children. My mind-frame shifted to being a dad. I had to be their example. It wasn’t all great but it wasn’t all bad either. I value my children, their words, their thoughts, their insatiable appetite for knowledge. So, although not always perfect, I did try to lead by example.
My middle child, told me a story I had forgotten. He recently moved to Denver and I went to visit. It was a nice little break as we just chilled and ate good food. He reminded me of when we went to see The St. Louis Rams. Sam Bradford’s rookie year. I always tried to spend time and do something special for each child before I deployed. I can’t remember where I was going but we had just watched the game and was headed home. We took the train back to the hotel and were sitting down close to one of the last stops. This gentleman sits down next to us and starts up sports chatter. We chat for quite a while and finally made it to our stop. The same gentleman gets off the train with us. As we were saying our goodbyes the man calls back to me asking for some money to get some food. I said that all I had was the quarters in my pocket which I gave him. I didn’t think anything about it other than there was someone that was in need. It’s not up to me to judge a man without knowing his story. I never actually said this to my son but that is what he got out of it. I was surprised that out of all the excitement that day that’s the story he chose to remember.
So that leads me to the present. My best friend and her dad would carry around bags of goodies for those in need and their generosity inspired me. I just had this aching need to help those that didn’t have the opportunities I had. This led me to Hotdogs for the Homeless. Every week, we deliver over 200 bags to the homeless. These bags have a hotdog, cookie packet, chips, water and condiment package all tucked into a decorated paper sack. It has become my Sunday morning church.
At approximately the same time I met the #yesloveokc team. Now I could write for days about them because I am now the President. But moreover, it led me to meet one of the most awe inspiring women I have ever met. She started Sox of Love and Laundry of Love. Now I will admit to just participating mostly in Laundry of Love. This gives folks that need assistance the opportunity to have clean laundry for their family. Something a lot of us take for granted. What an amazing concept. Call me naïve but I never thought about this being an issue. Socks were being thrown away because many had no access or money to wash their clothes. So now because of these organizations the opportunity exists for the homeless to have clean their laundry cleaned.
Just meeting these inspiring people and the founder of Free Mom Hugs made me want to do more. The founder of Free Mom Hugs said something to me that has really stuck. JUST SHOW UP! This led me to Sisu, a 15-22 homeless shelter, whom I volunteer with about 4-5 times a month. I finally starting to feel fulfilled but still have plenty of room left in my heart.
In conclusion, I feel like helping people has always been in my blood. My momma was and advocate and I had many other inspiring women in my life growing up. They taught me empathy, unconditional love, and the how to withstand the hard knocks. There is no manual for parents and we all have our baggage. None of us are perfect parents no matter what social media shows. We all hit walls. We all fall and we all fall on hard times. Some fall further than others but we all have the ability to fall just as far.
Ideally, just be good to people.
Give yourself reminders of how blessed you are. Most of us have seen rock bottom and even took a shovel to dig deeper. So I dig deep and make it a personal vendetta to help as many people as I can. Trust me, I am no martyr. I get just as much out of volunteering as those that need help. It is almost like I am making up for karma or something. Still trying to find that perfect yet impossible balance.
The great thing about volunteering is how it led me to so many wonderful people. I feel a part of an interconnected community in favor of helping rid the world of hate. All of us wanting to create a euphoria where love is universal and trumps any walls that hate may construct. For me the very bottom-line is #dontbeadick.
[image error]
Michael Jason Allen will never claim to be a perfect parent or to have everything figured out. He believes in spending time with his kids. Letting them make their own mistakes. Empowering them. Encouraging them knowing they will fail now and then. His kids are completely rad and doing outstanding things.
When it comes to his community he knows it’s not all about him but he also knows what he does matters. He believes in just being there for people and doing what he can to help them succeed. #justshowup
You can find bits of the organizations he volunteers for in his personality. The smiles and the warmth aren’t just a façade they are embedded in the core of who he is.
“Laundry Love Oklahoma serves the OKC, Del City and Norman communities, providing free laundry for those needing help with this basic need.”
Email: LaundryLoveOKC@gmail.com
Phone: (405) 494-0005
“Sisu Youth is an OKC nonprofit utilizing the power of volunteerism to affect change in the lives of youth experiencing homelessness in our community.
Sisu Youth offers support and community connection to youth ages 15 to 24 who are experiencing homelessness in the Oklahoma City metro area.
Sisu Youth is excited to announce that we now offer overnight shelter to the youth we serve (15-22 yo) seven nights a week.
Call 405.459.SISU (7478) for more information or to reserve a bed.”
“Our mission is to Warm Hearts, Feet First because little things matter. We serve children & teens in foster care, homeless adults, the Elderly & Veterans.”
Email: SoxOfLove@gmail.com
WHAT IF:
I had simple dream and I was bold enough to ask? I wonder what would happen?
I LOVE socks and I have grown especially sensitive to seeing homeless people during these cold days and nights. I drive downtown a lot handling business and my heart aches as I drive in my toasty warm car to my toasty warm house, where the first thing I do is put on a pair of cozy socks. I find myself waking up in the night thinking of the faces I passed, praying for them and hoping they found shelter and warmth.
WHAT IF:
My friends and family would help me gather NEW cotton socks for men and women (that is who I typically see on the streets) and I delivered them? Will it solve the problem? No, but I sure would love to know I helped a few people stay warm by offering them something I take for granted but adore.
WILL YOU HELP ME? WILL YOU DONATE A PAIR OR PACKAGE OF SOCKS? I will deliver them to individuals and organizations who accept them. Please, only new socks. That’s what I’d want, so that is what I am giving. I have the vision and I am releasing it into the atmosphere. I trust that God will align the universe to put the RIGHT people along to help manifest it.
If you’d like to help me help others please send your socks to:
Tamara Omondi
Attention:SOCKS
PO BOX 720957
OKC, OK 73172
THANK YOU! MAY YOU BE BLESSED!
“#YesLoveOKC is more then just a statement, it is a movement, a lifestyle, a goal. To help promote love in a world where so much hate and hurt goes on.”
Email: YesLoveOKC@gmail.com
Phone: (405) 753-0885
“FREE MOM HUGS is all about Mom’s who love LGBTQ+ kids. We educate and advocate on behalf of our children and those who have been rejected or discriminated against.
We are a 501c3, non-profit, founded by author and accidental activist, Sara Cunningham.
Free Mom Hugs is a group of affirming parents and allies who love their LGBTQ+ kids unconditionally and take hugs of love and acceptance to others. Beyond the Hug, we provide emergency assistance to LGBTQ+ community members in need, help with legal name changes, support at same-sex weddings, notes of encouragement, and more. We are dedicated to educating families, church and civic leaders, and not only affirming the value of the LGBTQ+ community, but celebrating it.”
Email: Info@freemomhugs.org
“Hotdogs for the Homeless was started as a way to reach out to the less fortunate by way of providing a weekly meal that many depend on. Alongside the meals often come socks, toothbrushes, and other supplies that are often seen as staples by the fortunate among us, but as luxuries by some below the poverty line.
There are many reasons people fall below the poverty line and into homelessness, ranging from mental disability to PTSD to simply falling on hard times. Hotdogs for the Homeless is a fantastic way to lend a helping hand to the less fortunate in a tangible, life impacting way. Whether they be unwed mothers, impoverished children, or the homeless: those who show up to benefit from these hotdog lunches feel the difference your support makes.”
March 1, 2019
NIGHT ORCHESTRA
[image error]
The shadows dance
On the brick wall
Above me
Like dark flames
Licking
At mortared lines
The streets leap to life
As car horns play tag
With a million voices
An orchestra of night
Playing a new tune
While I make a place
To lay my weary head
In this alleyway
I’ve learned to call home
February 28, 2019
#BeReal -STEPHANIE MUSARRA
Please help me welcome Stephanie Musarra to #BeReal as she shares with us her experience with homelessness. It is easy to make assumptions about someone who is homeless because let’s face it… many of us have never been there. We tend to believe this is a problem we will never be faced with. But I am learning it can happen to anyone.
In this case a woman had the option of staying with an abusive partner or fleeing. And as common sense as it seems to leave an abusive situation many don’t because at least they have a place to stay.
Here is Stephanie’s Story.
[image error]
My Time In Hell
You don’t know where you’re going to sleep, or how you’re going to wash yourself. You don’t know where, or when you’re going to get your next meal. You are exhausted. Life is a waking nightmare. There is no scarier feeling than facing the night on the street.
I knew it was time to leave my boyfriend. We had been living together for seven years. He started to snap after he discovered that his father’s emphysema had gotten worse. He would take all my money, and ration my food. Some nights he would lock me out, and force me to sleep in the parking lot.
I left early one morning after a rather violent argument. I hid at the bus stop until it was time to leave. I ended up at the emergency room. I called the emergency hotline, and ended up at the battered women’s shelter.
The single women stayed in a dorm-like room in the attic. We were each assigned a bed.
It was a rough place to be. There was only one bathroom for about twenty women. If the bathroom was occupied, you had to walk down three flights of stairs to the basement. A majority of the women at this shelter refused to go down the basement at night, because it scared the hell out of them. We were not allowed to discuss the basement. I seriously think that place is haunted.
You have to provide your own food at the battered women’s shelter, or find a church that serves meals. There was a lady at the shelter that did not like me for some reason. She got me so upset, that I tried to fight her. She’d gotten me written up several times, and I was asked to leave.
I was scared out of my mind. I had nowhere to go. I walked for several miles until I found a motel. I was forced to drain my savings, so I could keep a roof over my head. I knew I only had enough money for a few weeks.
I ate at churches during the week. Most weekends I didn’t eat, because I couldn’t afford it. I forced myself to go to sleep when I became extremely hungry. I walked around, and wrote stories to pass the time.
I ran out of money on Christmas Eve. I had to vacate the room if I couldn’t pay, so I threw all my belongings in the dumpster. I had given up all hope at this point. I tried to jump off a bridge. A passerby had seen me, and called 911. The paramedics caught up with me, and took me to the hospital.
I’m sharing my story to clear up the common misconception that all homeless people are junkies, conmen, and lost mental patients. The next time you see a homeless person, don’t judge them. Think about what that person is going through.
[image error]Bio
My name is Stephanie Musarra. I am a college student majoring in web design. I like to write short stories, and poetry in my spare time.
https://steffwordpress.wordpress.com
https:// metaphysical4life.home.blog
February 18, 2019
IF WE COULD BE WE
[image error]
For now…
I close my eyes
And imagine
I don’t feel the sting
Of your absence
The thousand miles
Of dotted lines
On asphalt roads
The distance searching
And measuring the space
From here to there
From me to you
For now…
I close my eyes
And imagine
It’s you I feel
Stealing my breath
Wandering my curves
And hugging my lines
Whispers dropping
From your lips to mine
Exploring the very core
Of whom we could be
If only we could be we
February 13, 2019
MATCHING NOTES
[image error]
Maybe the notes
Flow through veins
Catapult memories
From snapshots
To movie streams
Maybe the notes
Harmonize
With your breath
Reconcile
With your thoughts
Or maybe they just
Keep you alive
Until you find
Someone who
Understands
And hears them
The same as you
SHE WAS FIRE
[image error]
The fire
It fortified her bones
Into milky glass torches
And turned her blood
Into kerosene rivers
And that’s how she set
The whole world on fire
February 8, 2019
RECOGNIZING RACISM REQUIRES US TO SEE IN COLOR
[image error]I’ve heard people say “I am colorblind” when the topic of racism arises. I know what they mean to say… “they” meaning white people like me… mean to say they love all races equally. I may have even said it before myself. But I’ve come to understand why it’s not helpful. Furthermore, why the concept is harmful.
I hope I am NEVER colorblind. I love color too much.
Wouldn’t it be better to recognize and see the beauty all of us have to offer the world. Why be blind to something that makes us, all of us, beautiful?
To be colorblind is to ignore the issues that need attending to. You have to RECOGNIZE and see the colors in order to understand the fight. Because the truth is…. society isn’t colorblind. It never will be. And racism is something we really should be fighting against everyday.
The first step in fixing any problem in our society is to recognize the problem, ask ourselves how we can be part of the solution, and then verify with those being harmed if it’s indeed a good solution.
The problem isn’t the colors it’s the way we see the colors. That’s something we can work with.
This post is me acknowledging that saying we are “colorblind” as a response to racism isn’t the answer. Seeing color and recognizing how color enhances the beauty of a person… that’s what I think would be more helpful.
Just my two cents.
February 7, 2019
IT’S A TYPE OF VIOLENCE
They say the more you love someone the more it hurts to lose them. They say it’s worth it. But I don’t know who “they” is.
I’ve watched people dear to me lose the love of their life and… they say different things. They want what they had back because to be without them feels worse than death. But that love made them feel. Made them normal. Made them more human.
And it left them measuring everyone else short…
[image error]
It’s a type of violence
A heart beating
How loud it can pound
How hard it can break
The way it latches on
And falls in love
The way it catches
And snags itself
On harsh words
On critical thoughts
How it empathizes
How it sacrifices
How it sympathizes
How it… hurts
It’s a type of violence
A beating heart
