United States of What?

Both of my parents came from working class backgrounds and rose out of their class level. They taught my sister and I the value of hard work, community involvement but also to be critical of the status quo.

It is through those lenses that I developed into an adult, and when I discovered that the American dream was a lie, I admit it stung. But I took my existential anger and channelled it into advocating marginalized people and deconstructing the interlocking systems of oppression that keep the great White capitalist hope grinding the rest of us into oblivion.

Today however, I woke up exhausted. The news lately has been nothing but awful. The government is spying on us through organizations that are supposed to protect us, there are still wars raging in Afghanistan and Iraq (and one soon to come in Syria I fear), the Supreme Court just crippled the Voting Rights Act, and freedom of the press is slowly eroding away with the criminalization of whistle-blowers. I don't recognize my country anymore.

I am angry. I am angry that I feel like I have to be careful what I publish, that I still don't have health insurance, I am angry that anti-Semitism is on the rise, that mixed-race families in my city are getting swastikas spray pained on their property, I am angry that I could get fired if my boss found out I am queer. I am angry that I voted to re-elect Obama and he has betrayed us.
I don't feel safe here.


Invocation for strength ~ Moonrose Shaundel Angeles

Isis. the rainbow of sapphire mysteries
you are the calling I hear from
the wind in my bones.
oh mother of life
begotten from your womb of light
we rise now out of the masculine death
that is jehovah's enslavement
in the fullness of sweet woman's blood
and fairy rage--
our touch blossoms.
like the tides of earth, we are strong to come again.

i believe in the goddess
the movement for life.
thorned by our genderless
brightening for our powerless
and suckling our struggle.
by the rose in my chakras
i tap the androgyne.
with you our love is revolt
with you we are each
atoms of significance.

my lover of amazons
my triumph of faggot witches.
feed us the lunar nectar
between the poems and tears
between silence and celebrations,
and guide us to destroy
the machinery that alienates us.
then shall our captors parasite
upon themselves.

oh Kali
the source the destroyer the
return: in pain's dignity
your face is behind our faces.
we are strong to come again.