Voices

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Photo by Mike Labrum on Unsplash

The following is a guest post by my husband, Gurpreet Singh. He wrote this poem leading up to the 2018 midterm elections, for victims of gun violence and hate crimes. Please vote. 

 

Voices

by Gurpreet Singh

 

Daddy, this morning 26 of us played and now we are none.

Motek, I too will miss our Shabbat dinners.

My Sardarni, I miss our quiet Sunday morning rush to get to the Oak Creek Gurdwara.

Mama, thank you for making a space where boys like me may be a little safer to play and to make art and music. I miss you.

I am so very glad you couldn’t make it to Pulse tonight. Love you.

Darlin’, sorry we could not have dinner together after Bible study.

Rana Sodhi, my brother, I am happy you forgave and found some peace.

Get yourselves a good football coach, Marjory Stoneman, you are going to shine.

Many came and many spoke, a lot more cried and no laws changed.

PLEASE VOTE

 

© Gurpreet Singh and Wake Up, Mama! All rights reserved. 

 

A New Ritual for the New Year

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I’m loving my new magnetic poetry set from Coyoteloon. I gave them as gifts to some special ladies in my life and got one for myself while I was at it. I figured it would be a fun little thing to have and didn’t give it much thought beyond that. But it has quickly become a loved morning ritual. Continue reading

“I’m Not Creative,” and Other Lies We Tell Ourselves

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“Poetry often enters through the window of irrelevance.” — M.C. Richards

I can’t draw, so I’m not creative. The word “creative” is only for people who identify as artists, or who have God-given gifts in the arts that are obvious to everyone. I bought this story hook, line, and sinker at very young age, and held onto it until well into my forties.  Whenever I heard, “Everyone is creative” or similar, I always thought that was such bullshit.  Continue reading

There’s the delivery report. Then there is the Birth Story.

The other day, I sat down to document a birth in the medical record. I was still all abuzz inside from witnessing the two kick-ass women I had the privilege of attending that night.   It suddenly struck me, the flatness of what I was about to write compared to what actually happened.  I get that we have to document in a certain way, and that’s OK.   But wouldn’t it be amazing to say what we really see, for each and every birth?  Continue reading