I guess I could speak today.
I could say how angry I am.
I could let out the toxins.
But I find myself mute
At the foot of your bed
In between sheets I found others laying there instead
And its not that I'm angry that you made me a lie
Its that she came, and forced my goodbye.
And my beauty dispersed to awkwardness,
to nothingness,
to ethnic exotics
to be sold like a parrot,
like a lion,
like a statue.
Only to prove what?
That I am still the same.
Hair of fury, eyes of envy, skin of me.
-Noemi E. Garcia R.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
C'est la Vie. Or Asi Es la Muerte.
I wish I had sometime more beautiful to write. I had a weird dream last night that inspired some poetry, but I can't find the words. I come in here and I try to think of reasons to smile and believe all is happy peppy and right. I come in here, and instead I find that three people have died this year. In four months, I've gone through three losses, and I wish I wish I wish it wasn't true on any counts.
The first death was in May. A sweet, beautiful girl from church. She was younger than me, and I watched her grow up. She died in a tragic car accident. Her death was shocking. I didn't know her enough to say I suffered, but I knew those who loved her. Some of those girls were my best friends growing up. I knew her family, and I loved her sisters. I couldn't, can't imagine their pain. I just remember feeling numb and shocked, and sad for a few days. When I think of her, I still do. It stills feels, and sounds, and seems weird that she isn't parading her beauty and smiles with her friends and family.
Then came July. My grandmother passed. I didn't see it coming. I knew she was sick, but I honestly thought she'd get better like she did last time. I prayed so hard for her. I thought, I mean I really though she'd still be OK. I thought I'd get to see her in August. Maybe get a chance to say bye. Then my dad called, he said, "the Dr.'s say there's nothing they can do for her anymore." I broke. I'm still broken for so many reasons. She would cry when I would pray for her, and she would hold me and tell me to pray on her behalf because I was closer to God. She always always asked for me, about me, sent me her love. Once when she was really sick she saw me praying by her bedside (I was in Ohio). I don't know how she got better, but she did. The last time I spoke to her, she told me this story with so much conviction; her voice was breaking holding back tears. I thought it was weird in way, but what I wouldn't have given to have her seen me again and gotten better. I still have no words. Her death is still too fresh to process, to accept, to believe.
Now its September, and two days ago my friend died. I have so many regrets. I wish I would have talked to her more in the last few years, or dropped her a line. I wish I would have told her what she meant to me, what I thought about her. I wish, I wish and now its too late. I still can't believe she's gone. I can't. I feel for her family and loved ones. A silly brain tumor that came out of nowhere took her life. She was too young, too beautiful, too smart. This shouldn't be happening to her. It just shouldn't.
And I here I am trying to arrange my thoughts in a way that makes sense. This last year was hard enough. I've had to endure three deaths alone and away from family and friends (with the exception of flying out to L.A. for my grandma, although I wish I would have been there to say good bye!). I don't feel sadness, I don't feel much at all right now actually. I've cried and cried. I've woken up now and thought "Oh right, Rosalie died," and I can't understand it. I look over my desk and remember, "Grandma is gone too." I think of the unfairness of death, and why it takes such beautiful people and think, "Zenia was taken too soon."
My body, my mind, and heart all feel too numb and raw at the same time. I don't what to make of everything, and I don't know how long it will take for me to have the words to let it out. For now, this is all I have. C'est la vie. C'est la muerte.
-Noemi
The first death was in May. A sweet, beautiful girl from church. She was younger than me, and I watched her grow up. She died in a tragic car accident. Her death was shocking. I didn't know her enough to say I suffered, but I knew those who loved her. Some of those girls were my best friends growing up. I knew her family, and I loved her sisters. I couldn't, can't imagine their pain. I just remember feeling numb and shocked, and sad for a few days. When I think of her, I still do. It stills feels, and sounds, and seems weird that she isn't parading her beauty and smiles with her friends and family.
Then came July. My grandmother passed. I didn't see it coming. I knew she was sick, but I honestly thought she'd get better like she did last time. I prayed so hard for her. I thought, I mean I really though she'd still be OK. I thought I'd get to see her in August. Maybe get a chance to say bye. Then my dad called, he said, "the Dr.'s say there's nothing they can do for her anymore." I broke. I'm still broken for so many reasons. She would cry when I would pray for her, and she would hold me and tell me to pray on her behalf because I was closer to God. She always always asked for me, about me, sent me her love. Once when she was really sick she saw me praying by her bedside (I was in Ohio). I don't know how she got better, but she did. The last time I spoke to her, she told me this story with so much conviction; her voice was breaking holding back tears. I thought it was weird in way, but what I wouldn't have given to have her seen me again and gotten better. I still have no words. Her death is still too fresh to process, to accept, to believe.
Now its September, and two days ago my friend died. I have so many regrets. I wish I would have talked to her more in the last few years, or dropped her a line. I wish I would have told her what she meant to me, what I thought about her. I wish, I wish and now its too late. I still can't believe she's gone. I can't. I feel for her family and loved ones. A silly brain tumor that came out of nowhere took her life. She was too young, too beautiful, too smart. This shouldn't be happening to her. It just shouldn't.
And I here I am trying to arrange my thoughts in a way that makes sense. This last year was hard enough. I've had to endure three deaths alone and away from family and friends (with the exception of flying out to L.A. for my grandma, although I wish I would have been there to say good bye!). I don't feel sadness, I don't feel much at all right now actually. I've cried and cried. I've woken up now and thought "Oh right, Rosalie died," and I can't understand it. I look over my desk and remember, "Grandma is gone too." I think of the unfairness of death, and why it takes such beautiful people and think, "Zenia was taken too soon."
My body, my mind, and heart all feel too numb and raw at the same time. I don't what to make of everything, and I don't know how long it will take for me to have the words to let it out. For now, this is all I have. C'est la vie. C'est la muerte.
-Noemi
Monday, September 20, 2010
It's still fate
Life is so crazy. I mean, you never know where your going to end up. I had this friend who thought he'd marry this girl. He's in Vietnam now. She's getting married in two weeks to someone else. And we can remember the heartache for them both, and think of all the crazy things that brought their relationship to end. But in reality, it was just meant to be this way. He wasn't for her. She wasn't for him. I look at their lives once united, now running apart on different trails, and they're both excitedly happy.
She's madly in love with her fiance. She goes to bed every night thinking of him, his love, his face, and what mercy God had to give him to her. She smiles as she sleeps because tomorrow is another day less to that big day. She anxiously anxiously waits to be his misses, and no one can shake her joy.
He's filled with purpose and wonder. He goes to bed every night thinking what new thing he's learning tomorrow. He doesn't waiver or wander, but thanks God for the opportunity to fulfill his purpose. He awakes to a brand new adventure that he longed for since he was a boy. He wouldn't change his experience, because he knows its quickly changing him.
Life is so elusive. Who can really know what its doing, where its taking us. And we can sit and complain and cry about the pain and the unknown. The only thing we need to understand is that life knows better than us. The only thing we can do is trust that God knows better than we, and will bring us to that goodness.
I guess today I'm learning not to complain about the path, but ask God to help me learn from it; and not just learn from it, but learn it and know it well so that in the future I can look back and remember exactly where I came from and why.
She's madly in love with her fiance. She goes to bed every night thinking of him, his love, his face, and what mercy God had to give him to her. She smiles as she sleeps because tomorrow is another day less to that big day. She anxiously anxiously waits to be his misses, and no one can shake her joy.
He's filled with purpose and wonder. He goes to bed every night thinking what new thing he's learning tomorrow. He doesn't waiver or wander, but thanks God for the opportunity to fulfill his purpose. He awakes to a brand new adventure that he longed for since he was a boy. He wouldn't change his experience, because he knows its quickly changing him.
Life is so elusive. Who can really know what its doing, where its taking us. And we can sit and complain and cry about the pain and the unknown. The only thing we need to understand is that life knows better than us. The only thing we can do is trust that God knows better than we, and will bring us to that goodness.
I guess today I'm learning not to complain about the path, but ask God to help me learn from it; and not just learn from it, but learn it and know it well so that in the future I can look back and remember exactly where I came from and why.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Vita
La vida.
La vie.
Life.
She is a woman.
And like a woman, she can only give herself.
Without her, man is nothing.
God made-her, because He could not trust-him.
And it is only in her absence that we find our greatest
grief.
-Noemi E Garcia Rigsby
La vie.
Life.
She is a woman.
And like a woman, she can only give herself.
Without her, man is nothing.
God made-her, because He could not trust-him.
And it is only in her absence that we find our greatest
grief.
-Noemi E Garcia Rigsby
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Silent Killer
I feel hungry for words
For noise
For anything to drown the silence you leave behind.
Its only been two days and already I want to run
Its the solace at my harbor that keeps me grounded
Its the solace that beckons me to sail
And although a ship won't take me where you are
I want it to take me
I want it to move me into seas, and life, and breath
If I can't find life in silence
Let me find it by the ocean
Don't be too long or you won't find me
And if I'm lost look by the sea.
Silence is my silent killer.
-Noemi Garcia Rigsby
For noise
For anything to drown the silence you leave behind.
Its only been two days and already I want to run
Its the solace at my harbor that keeps me grounded
Its the solace that beckons me to sail
And although a ship won't take me where you are
I want it to take me
I want it to move me into seas, and life, and breath
If I can't find life in silence
Let me find it by the ocean
Don't be too long or you won't find me
And if I'm lost look by the sea.
Silence is my silent killer.
-Noemi Garcia Rigsby
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