A Poetic Journey to Restoration
Mother’s day is not all candy and roses for everyone. It’s okay to be angry at God; she/he can take it and will still help you heal.
I hope my May poem choice for the Mad Poets Society PA blog helps those who are in need of healing from their own personal grief during this time so that you can welcome the love.
http://www.madpoetssociety.com/blog/2023/5/8/mad/poet/of/the/year/tonita/austin/aka/toni/love-r297y
With love,
Toni ❤️
It’s National poetry month and I hope you are reading and/or writing more poetry this month.
Please click the link below to see my first poem and blog post as The Mad Poets Society Poet of the Year. Please subscribe to the blog for monthly updates. We’re doing this all year!
Love, Toni ❤️
Bev was my best friend. Although she lived on the opposite end of my block in West Philadelphia, where I was born and raised, our paths never crossed until I was in my late teens. I was the smart kid who got teased a lot and kept to myself. She got the nickname Queen B because she would walk around the neighborhood like she was royalty. She was always laughing and would strut down the street with her hands on her hips, and it seemed to me that she never let what anyone else thought about her, bother her.
I was the smart, quiet teenager with hardly any friends, and she was the loud, charismatic, funny popular one with lots of personality, and introduced me to the cool people on the block. When I was hanging with Bev, I felt popular and protected. She wouldn’t let anyone say anything bad about me and my Mom treated her like family. My brothers were DJs so there were always turntables set up in our basement, and Bev and I and whoever else came over from the block would put on our favorite albums and sing, drink beer and laugh. She wanted to be a star and she had such a beautiful light within her. We lost her at the age of 40 and I now carry her light within me. Each time I walk on a stage, I think of her and this is one of the poems I wrote in remembrance. Happy heavenly birthday Bev!
I Remember You (basement duet for Queen B)
We sang into West Philly-bred microphones
Scents of stale beer and cigarettes floating under our basement borne concerts
Roberta Flack
Natalie Cole
Teena Marie
They were us we were we and we were free
Imagining concert halls filled with fans gasping for gardenia scented motions of us
We danced swaying under water pipes and wooden rafters
Dressed in summer swag, tossing braids and permed ponytails while we bumped hips and dipped knees
We were stars on the dust filled unfinished basement stage
It was all we knew
We were inseparable until you strayed
We went our separate ways
You succumbed to painful nights soaked in old men calling for you to dance again
Asking for alley romance and offering snow dust dreams and green smoke behind masks
You danced to stale music with no voice
Now you’re gone and with you our Webster street duet
Yet
I still hear you
We walk together in a parallel universe
Pushing my stroller under the suburban sunshine
I think of my sister pushing through the door at the crack of dawn
Both rising to meet our children
Both trying to define success in the way we could see
Yet
I still see you
Walking alone waiting on the bus stop in clothes wrinkled in the scent of cigars and whiskey
As I secure the seat belt of my luxury car at the corner of my single home
We both sit cloaked in sadness
I walk with you though you don’t see my journey
Resting in the sorrow of acceptance that I could not save you from yours
I remember you
I see you
I carry you
I sing for you
I write for you
I swing my hips for you
I inhale smoke filled rooms and sip beer through a straw for you
I plant my feet and grab the mic in remembrance of you
You support me
I carry you
I love you
I remember you
I REMEMBER YOU
12/11/15 © M. Tonita Austin aka Toni Love
#takecareofmetuesday
This photo by @zamanifeelingsphotography I call my “ok God, what’s next?” stance.
It was taken on a night that was a pivotal moment for me because I was surrounded by people who believed in me and didn’t want anything from me but to see me shine. I let go of my plan for the evening and let them help me, and it was greater than I ever imagined. I was the spotlight performer and ended up bringing a 3 piece band of good friends and we shut the place down (check out a clip of the performance below)! ✨️
When the rug is pulled out from under you without a warning, you can either stay where you’ve fallen and wait for someone to pick you up, or you can take the time to meditate and envision the beautiful, safe replacement “rug” God has in store for you, get up and go get your blessing.
✨️Just for today Let time take time, say no to people who are constantly taking and not giving and do what brings YOU joy today.
✨️Trust the process, everything will come full circle
God I’m listening
#loveyourself ❤️
Who will tell whether one happy moment of love or the joy of breathing or walking on a bright morning and smelling the fresh air, is not worth all the suffering and effort which life implies…
~Erich Fromm
Last nights episode of This is Us hit me to the core. I have been a fan of the show since it’s inception, not only because the writing is so beautifully woven but I was particularly impressed at how perfectly they captured the personality and stressors of being a gifted black male in a white world. Randall reminds me so much of my own son and although I am not a white woman, as a sole parent, I can relate to her character as as a mother mostly raising her children on her own.
This episode brought back the deep sadness that I felt as the caretaker for my own mother. The hospice nurse coming to let us know that she had 48 hours left with us and the goodbyes we had to say as we stood sobbing by her side. It was the most heart wrenchingly beautiful moments I’ve ever experienced. At the age of 35, in my first trimester, carrying my first born in my womb I wished time would stop in that moment and raise her up just to see me through my pregnancy. I carried so much grief for so long afterwards, not just for myself but for my unborn child who would never know how it felt to have a loving, nurturing grandmother hug and kiss them. So of course my tears flowed during the goodbye scene, both affirming the end of this part of her journey and experiencing the writers vision of a soul’s transition from this life to the spirit world. I saw myself in the only daughter, the last one to say goodbye moments before she took her last breath. I saw my brothers, I saw my Godmother, her best friend letting her know it was okay to go and that she’d take over the nurturing.
I saw the sadness, the pain and the peace.
I saw the joy when Rebecca was finally reunited with her true love.
There was so much that reminded me of my own mother’s transition, yet what hit me the most was how Rebecca questioned if she had done enough as a mother. The what ifs that I often feel especially when my children are struggling with school and life. The questioning and guilt I feel when I leave them alone or with a caregiver because I just need some time away from all of the heavy responsibilities of giving and mothering. I adore my children and I wouldn’t have it any other way -well, maybe I would have a regular housekeeper! – raising them on my own, but I think society places such a burden on the custodial parent regardless of why the other parent is absent from parenting.
I am thankful that I have loved ones who remind me that I am a loving mother, and that I am doing the best I can with my children. I remind myself of how much I’ve sacrificed to provide for and support them. I think one thing the writer didn’t get right is that our loved ones continue to show up for us, care for us, help us and nurture us even after they transitioned. I’m sure I will do the same for my children and loved ones when I transition.
And because I have several decades of healthy life remaining in this lifetime, I am committed to incorporate #rest into my daily living so that I won’t have to wait until my transition to experience true rest.
Love,
Toni
This intensive word/ thought/ emotion, self-truth-culling, seeks to be a journey of healing, art, therapy, and authentic conversations about life that will result in the creation of individual works/excerpts of EPIC memoir poetry. Each student is invited to perform their created works at this live-streamed event.
Check out the live streamed event on the SIFT Media 215 You Tube Channel tonight, Sunday January 30th from 6-7:30 PM. It’s a creative masterpiece to heal your soul, with the finale by Ursula Rucker!
Original poetry from my book “Toni’s Room”
Finally Over
When I lost you
I found myself
Oh but it hurt
It pained for so long
Thinking of how foolish I had been
To believe in you
But my hurt turned into poetry
And dance
And I wrote
And danced
Until I filled up the emptiness in side of me
The void that set inside my soul when you were no longer there
Poetry about you and for myself
Flowed from my fingertips like golden run at carnival time in Trinidad
I loved until I stopped hurting
And found not only myself
But someone to love me for real
And yes I admit there were times I wished that he were you
Until constant caresses and truthful signs
Showed me that true love accepts me for what I am
Oh yes
It is finally over
Real love has rescued my weary soul
And you are but a faded memory
Because I am no longer afraid to receive the love
That I have been given
(c) Toni Love
Give yourself the gift of poetry on #Valentinesday
Available on Amazon.com or click below to order directly from me!
Thank you in advance for the love ❤ Stay well!
Mother’s Day is always bittersweet for me. I know as a Mother that there is pressure to smile and gush at the numerous mother’s day wishes, cards and love from my kids, but even after seventeen years, I still awaken with a small void knowing I can only speak the sentiment to my own mom, and seek to hear her respond in soft whispers of the wind.
When I was asked to collaborate with the phenomenal drummers and artists Sistahs Laying Down Hands for Mother’s Day I immediately said yes. Every performance together has been a gift to me and as I tapped into my intuition I knew that I needed to be in that space on that day, I just didn’t know why. I chose to recite a poem I wrote as part of my grief work after my mother transitioned. I was in my first trimester and I thought God to be so cruel to take my mother when I was first becoming a mother. Writing helped me come to terms with the loss and my faith and I recite this poem to help other motherless children feel that it’s okay to speak the pain of grief and release it.
I didn’t know that at the dawn of Mother’s Day this year I would be admitting my first-born to the hospital after spending hours in the emergency room. Everything in me wanted to cancel the performance but I had committed and my son told me “you should do it Mom, I know you’ll be good”. So with little sleep and a strained voice I sang and performed my poem surrounded by the healing energy of the drum. It was where I needed to be and I am grateful for the opportunity to receive the strength and the spiritual support through art.
My poem is about 5 minutes in, but you will want to watch from the beginning for a wonderful spoken word of remembrance of mothers and of course the powerful hands of the Sistahs Karen Smith and Miriama Koroma! You can search this blog for the words to the poem.
May you be continue to feel the nurturing of a mother’s love in spite of where she may or may not be in your life. Love comes in all forms. ~Toni Love
#loveistheanswer
Mothers of Black Sons and all who support in solidarity are welcome to join us as we stand together United against racial injustice, police brutality and inner city violence. We need your collective voice, wisdom and support to effect change. Please come out Sunday, October 16th at 12noon. We will march from Broad and Cecil B Moore Avenue to 1401 JFK Boulevard, Philadelphia. In addition to being a poet, I am the mother of a young black male. I am honored to be on the program and will recite this piece as well as my poem “Born of Warriors” written after the #PhiladoCastille murder.
MOBS can be contacted via email at : millionmomsphilly@gmail.com. Please also donate as little or as much as you can to MOBS Go Fund Me which will help cover the cost of permits and travel to our state and US capitols. Gathering as one unit is an essential part of the healing process. I hope you come.
~Toni #loveistheanswer
Not One
Not mine, son
Not mine
Not my son
Not my brother, nephew, uncle or current lover
Not my neighbor cousin or future husband
Not mine, not hers
Not anybody’s
Son
I am not saying “no more”
I am saying “not one”
We with the millions of ancestors behind us
Forge a force you will feel into centuries
Your gated communities will not be safe
Your land will not be prosperous
Your wealth will not sustain you
Your privilege will not save you
We are millions today plus millions from centuries before us
We are far more than your eyes can see
We gather together
Seen and unseen
When mothers pray
The heavens come forth to listen
So rest assured and be forewarned
There will be a price for your descendants to pay
If you ever look at our sons in a disrespectful way
We, collectively are not playing with you today
No more
Not one
Not
One
Son
(c) Toni Love Publishing
Born of Warriors
Now is not the time to sit down and grow weary
For we are born of warriors
Trained on soil rich with the spirits that passed before us
We were selected from our tribe and trained for battle
Even stripped of our land, our riches and our families
We stood strong ushering the chained weary in front of us
Walking miles to the beach to meet our battle with the sea
Some were not strong enough to endure the nausea swaying beneath our ribs
Diseased corpses laying by, vicious attacks of salt water on open wounds
Watching the constant raping of wombs and deep screams of torment
Many were not trained for this battle and vanished into the sea at night for comfort
They were not capable of taking the journey so they took their own lives instead
But we did not
We are born of warriors
We were trained for this
Taught how to survive capture
How to lead without authority
Torment and torture we withstood
We are born of warriors
So this is nothing new
We will always come up against those who never wish to see us free
They have seen us rule, prosper and conquer
They seek to degrade, demoralize and destroy our power
We have forgotten who we are
But they have not
They fear us because we are born of warriors
Now is not the time to be paralyzed in fear
Queens expect their sons to walk off into battle
Their tears rolling down the backs of their Kings as they prepare sons for their destiny
Never is the battle fair
Never is the outcome expected
But we must not sit and fight battles with feathers
Now is the time to stand up and fight
Remember who you are
Your ancestors did not fall weak and die before reaching land
Nor did they jump to their demise
They stood and fought and ran and rallied and walked and planned and waited and revolted but they did not sit down
The only reason you are here is because they fought for your life
Never forget that some will never cease at trying to take your freedom
You were born for this
You were trained for the battle
You are here solely because you are born of warriors
Those who seek to destroy you have not forgotten
You descended from Kings and Queens
Born a warrior
© M. Tonita Austin aka Toni Love 7/7/2016
Toni's Room 