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
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