Paddington Station, London
Intense feeling traveling down the road
dragging the body side to side
zigzagging to the end of the shop on hands and knees.
It stencil shadows on the ground
ushering pain and torture until it decapitates
one wallet and soul at a time
leaving a crime scene photo of generous nightmares
engrained into helping
not legislating the heart
out of place
the creepy-crawly that holds self.
I am a proud woman, no periods, semicolons or colons about it. I live in a fishbowl of an African, Portuguese and American family of women: my real family, my father has since passed and adopted family that being my religious friends, BFF’s and buddies. Yes, it takes a village.
We laugh. We shop. We cry. We travel. We party. We tell stories. We worship. We argue. We agree. We disagree. We exercise. We read. We evolve. We love. We share experiences and that’s just the way I like it.
So, in this beautiful March day, pad on the back to many out there still fighting in the trenches for everyday survival. Love to all the single mothers and queens of their own dominions. Kisses to the young woman who are still getting to know herself, struggling to get her id card. Hooray to all those who have found the purse on their backs. Celebrate yourself, us today and everyday. Much love and Peace sisters. Girl power. Happy International Women’s Day!
Samora Correia, Portugal
it is Carnaval.
Time to dress up and celebrate or
like they say in the streets of New Orleans,