love

All posts tagged love

Time Capsule

Published February 2, 2016 by April Fox

At the end,

you will gather your life

and if you’re lucky

it will fill the room,

hold your hand and speak to you in

furred voice,

calling in the breeze to brush away the sorrows

from your brow.

Everything else of significance will fit in your palm,

tarnished and worn

the colors faded and softened with time.

They will take these treasures home

and they will bury you instead.

baby apple

Untitled, September 4 2015

Published September 4, 2015 by April Fox

This has been a trying week, with a lot of scary things happening close to home and around the world. I’ve been simultaneously trying to wrap my head around it all and to pretend that I don’t see the ugliness, and I keep coming back to this one thing that I simply cannot understand. With all the things that you can teach a child:

To paint a picture
To hula hoop
To identify birds by their songs
To play an instrument
To speak another language
To write in cursive
To grow tomatoes
To tie their shoes
To write their name
To play hopscotch
-or Go Fish
-or Parcheesi
-or Mario Kart
To bake a cake
To care for a pet
To wash their hands
To dance
To tell a joke
To practice gratitude
To love

Why would anyone want to teach them how to hate?

little ones

Scribble.

Published July 10, 2015 by April Fox

And in the middle of this, there are lines

drawn in chewed-paper crayons and apple-red lipstick,

in pencils with metal eraser bands sharpened and cruel,

in the sand on the sidewalk outside a long-outgrown day care’s fenced playground

with a stick, dragged behind

carelessly

In the cracks of the mirrors, the anger-creased palms,

the wrinkles that make up the maps to our eyes

the gaps in the boards on the falling-down porch

the seams in the grass growing up

from below

and from way up above, where we sit

idly watching

the wind shape the fields and the branches like water,

the lines come together to make up the letters

that scribble the words

to the story we wrote.

Gay Marriage Ruined My Life: A Right Wing Fairy Tale

Published June 26, 2015 by April Fox

I don’t know where to begin with this.

One year, six months, and five days ago, I got straight married. This morning, that marriage is over, the sanctity of it ripped apart by the selfish ruling of the Supreme Court of the United States of America.

The Court has ruled that states no longer have the right to deny same-sex couples the right to marry.

I now have to find someone to gay marry. My husband does, as well. All across America, straight marriages are falling apart in the same way, as men and women wake up side by side and find out that they can no longer be represented by those great historical figures, Adam and Eve. They now must be Adam and Steve, or Eve and… I don’t know, what female name rhymes with Adam? I’m sure some good right wing fundamentalist will figure that out soon enough. It’s not important now.

The children born of these same-sex unions will grow up to be gay as well, and they’ll make little gay babies who will make little gay babies when they grow up, and that will no doubt lead to countless abortions and an increase in welfare and food stamp fraud.

Ministers will be forced to perform gay marriages in their now-gay churches, because everyone knows that when the gays get married, they’re all about forcing a disagreeable old bigot to perform the ceremony, rather than enlisting the services of a more supportive officiant.

Standardized test scores will plummet. I don’t know why, but as long as we’re blaming gay marriage for the downfall of society, I think that fits, don’t you?

The reality, of course, is that none of that happened. None of that will happen.

The reality is that I woke up to the news, ran down the stairs, told my child, danced around the house a little, ran up the stairs again, woke my husband to tell him, and instead of declaring his intentions for divorce, he smiled, hugged me, and went back to sleep. He’s still here, lying in bed behind me, awake now. I just checked-he confirms that we are still straight married, and are going to stay straight married. Our sanctity is intact, thank you very much.

There are still states where it is illegal for gay couples to adopt. This ruling could potentially open the door to positive changes there, providing more loving homes for children whose parents are unable to care for them. (By the way, if you see this as a bad thing and still label yourself pro-life, you’re a rotten little hypocrite, you know.)

Marriage equality can only change things for the better. There is truly no possible detriment to society as a result.

Really. There isn’t.

You can give me your biblical grounds, and I can shoot right back with my own verses that show your hypocrisy, and I can throw some logic on top of it, and you won’t listen anyway, if that’s your argument. Your religion fits you; it is not one size fits all. You have the absolute right not to gay marry, if it’s against your religion. Really, try it. Go find a gay person. Ask if they want to get gay married to you. If they say yes, then you say “Ha ha, just kidding, social experiment!” and watch what happens. (Nothing happens.) They’ll probably just think you’re kind of an asshole, and kind of crazy, but that’s really just confirming what we already knew. You won’t be dragged kicking and screaming to some tacky Vegas chapel where you’ll be forced to get gay married by a guy in Liberace drag, against a backdrop of glitter, show tunes, and a life-sized RuPaul cutout. Promise.

I’ve heard the argument that gay marriage is bad for children.

Let me tell you what’s bad for children. BAD MARRIAGES. When kids witness unhealthy relationships between adults, no matter their sex, that’s bad. When kids witness healthy relationships between adults, no matter their sex, that’s good.

I’ve heard the argument that gay marriage means exposing kids to gay sex. “Shoving it in their faces,” the fundies like to say.

I don’t know about you guys, but my kids aren’t anywhere around when I’m having sex. I would bet that’s the same in most families, whether the parents are gay or straight. So I guess the question now is, what are you perverts doing in front of your kids that makes you think that kids in families with gay parents are sitting around watching them have sex all the time?

Someone should look into that.

The sun is shining, this morning. I can hear birds singing. I can hear a bee buzzing outside my window, and the occasional cow saying hello. It’s the same as any other day, except that now, my friends who happen to be gay are finally recognized as human beings by the Supreme Court of the United States.

Nothing else has changed.

If you think that this ruling is going to damage your own straight marriage, you need to look into the real issues there. Good luck to you.

aclu love wins

Lucky.

Published May 31, 2015 by April Fox

He brings me books:

A biography of Elvis Costello;

a notebook from 1932, filled with careful script:

a schoolgirl’s notes on history;

Tom Perotta

and the like.

He sings to me when I can’t sleep,

tells me stories about bars and hidden tables

talks me safely toward the morning,

through the dark. 

He sits across from me

while I read and peel an orange,

an ordinary waking, but still I catch him watching

like I made the sun come up. 

  

Sunshiney Things

Published May 27, 2015 by April Fox

It’s been one of those days that leaves me stuck for words, tangled up in wishing for a little break from all the sad things going on. So here, again, are some recent photos of sunshiney things and clouds and bugs and other such things that make me slow down and remember that things can be ok in increments, even when the rest of life is not.

azalea

butterfly

spring storm tomato

ant baby apple bedhead bee butterfly2 hose jj more butterflies

ad love

Epilogue

Published March 15, 2015 by April Fox

Give me something to look forward to, she said-

The crease of your palm as your hand curves around the back of my neck, or the stillness that crowds your words when you whisper something no one else can know

Let me be the one to taste the endorphins and whiskey in your voice

When you finally say good night. 

And she raised her face to his, supplicant and small

And in the light cast by his backward smile

She wrote their epilogue. 

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