Lucille Vasquez

A pattern you’ve noticed in the world

Something for everyone

The Bard’s Walk

Black man singin’
Roses swingin’
Black man raps
Roses dance
As in a celebration.

He spits the age old rhyme
We’ve heard a thousand times
Richard, Macbeth, and Juliet
Only now
It’s the black man preaching.

A man gets down on one knee
His beard white as snow
A smile creeps and eyes peer.
He was able to tame the beast
That lied within the blackamoor.
He knew once he spoke as Othello,
The false sense of belonging would
Fill the void that was dug for centuries.
Centuries of shame
Disgust and deviation.

What is more valuable than everyone else thinks?

Hiding behind tired eyes
Be careful!
It is no surprise
Obsessive habits
Have turned a bit traumatized
Still, rise.

Changing what has been broken,
Became a bit more soft spoken,
To figure it was a projection,
All these years, mis-taken.

New discoveries, longed alleviation
Possibilities, where you’ll take them.
Focus the energy, new creation
All from one lowly conversation.

What can you see outside your window?

… Clap your hands

Just when I had started to grow weary I took a look out the window at 7pm and my mood instantly shifted. The cheers, claps, and bangs of pots and pans was more than enough to affirm brighter days were ahead. A man and his son rode by waving on their bikes along the greenway, almost like they would on a float at the Thanksgiving parade. I sat at my window laying my head against the glass whispering under my breath I won’t ever take a thing for granted, promising, as the sounds roared. I was in a meditative state, words of gratitude pouring out because I always hoped to see my community like this. Under different circumstances, but beggars can’t be choosers. I laughed wondering what some external force would think of all this noise being made, when everything else was so still. If they had no idea what was going on here on Earth, they’d just see thousands of people cheering on stillness. But to us 7:00pm to about 7:07pm means everything.