"Poetry is the opening and closing door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during a moment." --Carl Sandburg
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FED UP HONEYS is seeking poetry and short stories submissions. We want your best work, your best poetry, or your most inspired experiences that relate to the following:

  • Stereotypes that young womyn of color deal with on a daily basis.
  • Situations that urban youth (womyn and /or men) have to deal with.
  • Anything that has to do with urban life, the struggles that come along with it and being a womyn.

    To have your work considered, please follow our general guidelines:

  • A brief autobiography including age, ethnicity, city, and state.
  • Any e-mail address or telephone number for us to contact you about your work if needed.
  • The inspiration behind your poem or short story

You may send your work [HERE]

All work will be considered. If we are going to display your work on our website, we will first contact you. By submitting your work, you affirm that you are the sole author, and agree that FED UP HONEYS may publish, print, and distribute the work submitted. By submitting material, you affirm that you have read and agree to our submission guidelines.

> "Tonight I began my shower with cold water..."  

 

Tonight I began my shower with cold water*

Needless to say I was pissed off

I realized that I will forever think about the projects when I think about cold water 

Cold water will always remind me of the projects.

The cold showers I have had to take* the ones that don't allow me to think enough.  The shower is where I have done all the thinking and planning of this poem.  The place that I have studied American history in the seventh and eighth grade.  I was thinking about this in in the shower and I was wondering why?  The bathroom was the only place for me to think. Alone. Everywhere else in my house was crowded.

Cold showers remind me of the projects. They remind me of home.  Cold water reminds me of the cardboard boxes in mami's room with supplies for her clandestine business.  You know the one that housing tries to shut down even though she hardly makes a profit and has aged, aged since she began this endeavor.. this losing endeavor as poor people lose and the returns seem dim

In the same apartment, with thin walls there are bags already packed* this luggage doubles as drawers we cant fit into the room.  The luggage has nice sheets and new trinkets from bed bath and beyond and the 99 cents store from around the way.  These nice sheets that are supposed to go on the mattress that syndi will take with her to her new apartment.

But t he nice sheets are home still in the same bag, some have been opened and used waiting for the closing to happen. But it doesn't and syndi doesn't move out. shes home, still waiting and wanting to get out of this misery.  But she cant because she cant afford anything. She cant afford to move out into this apt bc they are trying to screw her. From the attorney that is screwing my cousin to the bitch that is selling the apartment to the new landlords to everyone.. it is one conspiracy theory she tells me and I believe her bc she has tried so hard and has wanted so much to leave the poverty the ideological poverty the internalized and regurgitated poverty of the projects

She too hates cold showers

Cold showers remind me of Jackie and junior.  They left, Jackie left bc shit at home was not cool. Shit at home was not cool and she had to find an out. her out was better than most others who share our address and shit wages and social location.  Her out was kinda like the American dream.  Its so funny bc had we been living better she could have stayed home and that would have been bliss. But she too hated the cold showers. 

I cant even imagine having to shower in cold water everyday.

Sometimes my sisters would shower in other peoples houses.

I cant even imagine having to shower in cold water everyday.

I would come home and be so mad that I had to shower in artic temperature water* so cold too cold to drink. Let alone feel it against your warm stomach and breasts.  I sometimes hated being home simply because of that.  simply because I hated having to shower in cold water or having to evacuate the shower and leave my thoughts or have my thoughts threatened by the cold water*

The shower as I said was my only place to think.

Cold water reminds me of roaches* it reminds me of the hot water I used to kill roaches.  I killed them because I hated them* not really, I just hated that they took some of my space and now I hate them bc I used hot water on them. 

Roaches.  When I think of roaches I think of home about getting rid of them about having to share my corn flakes with them and being mad that the cereal I wanted to eat, they had gotten to first that morning. I remember roaches in the kitchen, running for cover when the big bad jomi ( back then and still today when I return its baby) CRUNCH I remember the roaches running for cover when  big bad baby came into the kitchen for a midnight snack. Id kill as many as I could. Sometimes I even stomped on them with bare feet. CRUNCH And punched the walls because those mother fuckers would climb up and I would try and kill them all, as many as I could while I could.  CRUNCH

Roaches. I thought that they had their own little universe, like a civilization and the truth was that I just wanted to give them some news.  I was into the news and thought that they had cameras in which they could document the homicides with* I truly believed that there were anchoroaches that would report live, or close to live from the scene.  Please remember that homicides is most of what I saw on the tv.  They always happened in Brooklyn and I am still slightly scared that it will happen to me.

Cold water reminds me of mami and papi and the trouble they are having and have had* it reminds me about how he wouldn't boil water for her and she would for him.. it reminds me of gender injustice and cruelty.

Cold water reminds me of aids of stis of discomfort* it reminds me of shock of shock to my genitals to my deep brownish mauve lips that cant' and don't even wish to think about artic water on them.

Cold water reminds me of the silence and the real danger there is to these diseases.

Cold water is like a shock * especially when I experience it here at smith. it reminds me that I am poor and that I associate cold water with my home with my poorness with crazy memories*

I am poor I live in the projects and I do have crazy memories* those things are all true* but cold water does more it reminds me of how people here try to invalidate me the coldness of their remarks.  The insincerity of the bullshit they try and slip past me. but I know bullshit bc I was raised on welfare* I can spot that shit a mile away.  I know bullshit bc I am an abc student* a better chance, a better chance to figure your shit out. white guilt is not for me.. I don't get the white privilege. 

Cold water reminds me of the 34gs everyone assumes I get from the college, or better yet their mommies and daddies* cold water makes me think of how I don't see those 34 or 33 neither does my father bc he's working without a contract and mami that is something different, she wont see those for a long time.

34gs go in 8 months at smith and these bitches are mad bc I care that this money is here for me.  that I am going to use it* they think that the cold water has numbed me but it has woken me up and set me up/// alert.  Alert. Alert. Alert for the bullshit they try to feed me to make them feel comfortable.. and me? is my comfort not as important?

- - This is an anonymous submission.