For most humans
belonging is tied to names
passed through generations
by fathers and mothers.

Unless orphaned or divorced
a name can ascertain
from birth to death
who we are or are not
and shame us or make us proud?

A name can be all we need
to belong proudly and pass it
on to those we love
or to separate and divide us.

The feeling of belonging
is in a name's historical roots
it can elevate or diminish
and in shame, choose
not to belong to their name.

My favorite tree in our yard
is bare
And every time I look out
It’s bareness
Swallows me in feelings of loss
When first
Leaves turn colors like loved ones
last breath
Leaving arms that once held me
only memories
Of once arms on a body
Love-filled
Even when branches tossed by winds
like sticks
From a life once well spent
full again
Lush regalia crowds over each other
with memories
Of happy times return and memories
dunks deep
Into my gut, how it was
hate that,
For love reminds how painful loss
can be
When love’s arms  go from barren
To lush

8/30/22
@ Changes by Marta Masis Delgado
(aka) Adint-Weeks

Rise,
from deep in earth like sweet
rumbles of thunder in spring
pregnant with passion for men
filled with love for children

Rise,
to the sky with spirits of steel,
never wavering, even in doubt,
always holding a steady pace
while traveling on the road of life

Rise,
to reach for and taste the mud
of generations upon giving birth,
tender and strong of heart and back
sustaining all that men cannot

Rise,
from priestesses to prostitutes, sacred
we are all. Made to conceive and lead.
When women don’t rise, truth is corrupted
with edicts and imprisoned with lies

Rise,
don’t let evil pass from morning to night
onto days to dark or until the lie rings true
and wars don’t tear our children
in the name of peace from our hearts

Have you seen
a life born
and someone die?
The beginning
and end of life.
Memories buzzing
as guilt buts in
like gossipy neighbors
and regret comes
as if it’s not enough
that reality is rude
and the loss is lost
in wishing away
a stain that stays
to remind us that all
wasn’t as we’d want
to make believe.
Yet, if wet trash
is how we feel
as we let tears flow
as we almost ***
laughing the bad away
and crying the good in
reality fills us
with the truth of how
love is.

Marta
6/28/2019

God, as I understand you
grant me the valor to see the truth
not what I fear,
want to see, or want it to be.

An eye for reality
and another for day dreaming
a mouth to speak my truth but not
push it on others.

A mind to remember my messy tracks,
mistakes and faults,
what I need to accept or change
but please
don't bother me too much because
it's my time
to kick back, breakout and do
my thing.

Compassion to see
that reality can be hard or healing
and good or rough times,
can build with mistakes esteem
despite the screams and frowns,
from others.

Let me go thru this day not counting
blessings nor messes
not taking everyone’s inventory
and standing up for myself and others
even when on my ****.

Marta
3/7/2019