Watermelon Proud

The muse is always ready when she is. LOL. Well, this week, I was supposed to be communicating with you about how sustainable we are at Mmmm, Yes! (Which is important.) 

But, my muse showed up last Friday and decided she was ready to finish the scratches she urged me to start making last October.  It's been a year.  Maybe she has felt as tongue-tied about it as I do. 

I get it. There is truly no way to artfully communicate about genocide.  Artists do.  In fact, it’s our primary mission to do so.  But, my muse has had other ideas these past few years.  She’s out of practice.  

There’s a new design in the shop. I’m really proud of Watermelon Proud. Use the search bar above to find all the offerings in this design.

These are the fragments that went through my mind as it came into being.

Watermelon Proud

Red dirt Sand

the flowering sky 

between Hope 

bent stalks seeding

winged bellies

full of futures. 

Long ago, 

one flimsy summer 

of watermelon seed spitting

contests Careful not to swallow

The dolts said we'd grow

watermelons in our tummies

A metaphor for our world

how they swallow Black seeds

how they stare at a barren sky

full of raging gas balls 

Maybe

our hope for roots

& then shoots -  shy tendrils 

followed by sprawling legs

boasting yellow flowers

opening fragile & bawdy

fed from kitchens without flour -

mock their impotent sky

Them impoverished one Them without 

a single singing ancestor

or cottonwood tree root sending 

sweet pickled rind freedom

missives to olive penpals 

pride Knows itself

hate bombed

surrounded 

by holocaust eternal

in oppressor prayers

& perseveres 

with ruthless joy