Suede and Sunshade

  • This Too Shall Pass

    My lover and I were discussing at length, each other’s careers. In my case study, librarianship found me, as opposed to me finding it. Since my system is public-facing, there are times when the stress level can get beyond controllable. I find that the post-Covid (some say current) era has bred an underground pandemic of its own. Brain rot. A decrease in mental capacity certainly floods the airwaves. Tolerance levels are at an all time low. A patron may be having a bad day, and take it out on the workers. But, long gone are the days of pushing through the pain, as the server. You now find yourself reflecting back at them, or extreme lengths, abandoning ship entirely. Controllable emotions are now lost on either side.

    Last summer, I experienced a creative renaissance. What became of my life, after the push that sent me over the edge, was nothing short of magnificent. Now looking back, I plead to God “give me those times again”. Low tolerance, which I had even before 2020, sunk into my chest and my head this year. This affects my ability to think, and in turn, write. My way of translating the world into my own words, had slowly began to become lost in translation inside my own rotting corpse concurrently. This year has been a hard one, so was 2020, so was 2016. I guess for me, it comes in 4s. 4 is an unlucky number in a lot of cultures. Better brace myself for 2028. Sometimes, I humor myself, even in the bleakest of ways.

    This Too Shall Pass.

    Syd N’ Sam 

    When my grandma said she had names for her selves 

    For which reminded me of books on the shelves 

    I knew from then on, 

    My mind cannot be quelled 

    When my grandma ask God for Him to take her 

    And died a week later  

    I knew from then on, 

    Words had power 

    When my grandma called for me under anesthetic 

    And told me everything was copacetic 

    I knew from then on, 

    Life may destroy me, but can’t defeat me 

    I just won’t let it.

      

    Poem Written on September 16th, 2024.

    (Slowly but surely getting out of my funk, tortured artist mode deactivate, until we meet again!)

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  • I’ll Find You, Even in the Dark

    I write because it is how I translate the world into something I can understand. But more importantly, it is how I talk to God and how He talks to me. I have always been drawn to art ever since I was young. The appeal of art comes from the fact that you are pulling from something only you can see. When other people interpret your art, could it get lost in translation? Perhaps. But to be a great artist, you must keep an open heart, but a closed one between you and your Source. To close out the month of June, and my one-year anniversary of being a writer, I want to share a poem I wrote yesterday, on again, love.

    I’ll Find You, Even In The Dark

    I'll find you, even in the dark
    As punishment for loving you
    Amongst a night with no stars
    Amongst a crowd with no faces
    Amongst a start with no end
    As punishment for loving you
    I'll find you, even in the dark

    I'll find you, even in the dark
    As punishment for loving you
    Against a fall without a rise
    Against a death without a birth
    Against a body without a soul
    As punishment for loving you
    I'll find you, even in the dark

    I'll find you, even in the dark
    As punishment for loving you
    Always with courage withstanding fear
    Always with hope withstanding doubt
    Always with devotion withstanding rejection
    As punishment for loving you
    I'll find you, even in the dark

    Because amongst everything, and against everything
    You will always be the light of my life!

    Sunshine

    Written on June 29th, 2024

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