Bones…

 

Image result for scorched heart

Haiku-

And the words he spoke

Burned inside like hot fish grease

Leaving only bones

Epiphany Castro All Rights Reserved 2018

 

Advertisements

Holes…

So it has been written

invisibly in my DNA

Or maybe even-

My tongue pierced the skies

With curses upon myself

Led and tethered by

Too many truths

Maybe too many lies

Sung to me from birth

Like relentless lullabies

I dared to challenge

Wicked wicked fate-

I challenged systems put into place

By design-

Too much this-

Not enough that

Feverishly clutching the middle-

By a sticky noose

Spun into my internal skin

The one no one sees

Maybe no one looks at things unpleasant

I am not pleasant to see…

It is far easier to look the other way

Look another way-

Walk away…

Chalk it up to my numerous sins

I assigned them to myself

wore them like a medal

Cutting into myself

With jagged little knives-

Simple acts turned out to not be so very simple…

When it came down to it

Inevitably harming others

Sadly I had not the best intentions

Shots fired…

Yet bullets gotta land somewhere

I may as well start with me

I am no where near free

Progression is a work of heart

Mine still aches-

For now…

 

-Epiphany Castro 2018

All rights reserved

Chasing the grey…the struggle is real

I began coloring my hair the minute my Momma let me.  Unlike most of my friends in High School I was not allowed to color my hair.  I think I was a little over 18 when I began a lifelong love for what? BLACK HAIR!  Now keep in mind this was the 80’s,so of course I experimented with a gang of colors..  I remained somewhat faithful to my beloved black hair as I  treated it like  an affair.  I always came back to where my heart was.  I loved serious black hair.  Like oh so black..like blackity blacker than black…

 

Bigen Permanent Powder Hair Color 59 Oriental Black 1 ea (Pack of 3)

This meant most of my adult years I was tethered to the fear of my real colour peeking its ugly head.  then came the grey showing up uninvited.  It pulled up a chair and said it was staying.. like forever.  Not just for tea and sandwiches but like STAYING like a Chaka Khan song.

 

About 5 years back I noticed the grey was seriously coming thru with a quickness I had not anticipated nor expected.  The temples.  The hairline.  The crown.  AGGRESSIVE this shyt was.  What was once 6 to 8 weeks was now 2 to 4 weeks max…

 

I felt betrayed by my genes.  So I have little signs of aging outwardly.  No wrinkles or laugh lines etc…God was fair..I now had the gift of hella grey hair.  Like a whole lot.  Even as the trend for millenneals to dye their hair grey..  It was super popular actually,it seemed only acceptable if you were 18 and had a dye job or if you were like Miss Jane Pittman…  Where was the middle?  Was there one?  Was I just fucked?  Well kinda…if I had remained in this constant race of chasing my grey.  I came home one day after a day at the garlic festival and said..welp Imma cut it off.  You see I had 3 hair colours going on.  Black,grey and my filthy natural sandy red hair.  I looked ridiculous.  My options were limited.  I picked up scissors and cut that shyt off.  I did not  cry.  I was not happy.  I was not sad.  I was just done.  I do not like feeling helpless.  Holding on and attempting to let my hair grow out the black was killing me. I felt homely.  I felt stupid.  I felt less than nothing.  I know what your thinking..”All this over hair”?  Yep.  Judge me..go ahead.  I’m telling you that shyt was rough. I’ve been natural over 25 years.  I have cut my hair a million times. This grey was another animal.  I was only relieved when I put the scissors down..

Image result for scissors

Big chop number 362 I guess.  I now knew all I have to do is let it grow.  No color.  No locks..no nada…I was amazed at the amount of silver I had on top of my head.. Whoa..  Now I understand many say they “cant wait to go grey”.  Umm..ok…I feel hella old..  This world has a lot to say about us with grey hair and most ain”t purty.  We get called granny hair and shyt like that. It is HARD I tell u..  I may not be pretty anymore with this grey hair but at least I am honest with myself.  I’m not sure when I will like my hair.  Maybe I wont.  At least I have some cool pix of others to inspire me..

Image result for grey hair natural black women

 

Image result for grey hair natural black women

Image result for grey hair natural black women

 

Image result for grey hair natural black women

Image result for grey hair natural black women

I am knee-deep in my “meh” phase.  Reminds me of my loc adventures.  This is when patience is its own reward.   It is hair.  it will grow out.  It is hard not digging one’s reflection in the mirror.  Its harder chasing the grey away tho

Let’s be clear-my rug matches my curtains..but that’s for another blog on another day..

till then..here I am…

Image may contain: 1 person, sunglasses, closeup and outdoor

 

Black Girl

Image result for little black girl with afro puffs cartoon

Oh dear sweet little black girl…

This small world just ain’t ready-

for all this big ol magic

 

Too fat

Too thin

Too yellow

Too black

Too…much

Too soon

Tic toc,tic toc

When will the time be anywhere like right?

Fix your clocks..and your face

When nite becomes day and day becomes nite

When girl’s fleabites become mountains

When hips round,curve and blossom

 

When you aint so little anymore

When hands accidentally brush across your azz

when it was not very much of an accident but they hoped you’d give them a pass

When notes are passed around about you in class

heads hang in shame

but not the right ones

being sucked into cruel childish games

You mourned the death of your innocence before it was officially murdered

You wrote pages and pages about it in your pink diary

the one with the ragged lock

And your mama read it and called you a whore

But wait

There is more

As you felt your value slip thru your fingers

Yet the self loathing still lingers

then..now…later…

Little black girl

they told you

you aint shyt

and they meant it

get used to it

in many others eyes you are less than it

you must not give up

nor give in

When you do they win…

Weave  your own tales

Cast your own spells

Acknowledge your frailties

and demons too

gather them and place into a magic bottle

rub its belly

Make that wish

You know the one

one of many..but still…

this one has a happy ending

maybe a happy middle and a halfway decent start

The world is cruel but you don’t have to be

you must not ever allow it to swallow your heart

pain will come

pain will go

You shall be more than resilient

you will stumble crack and fall

you will regain your footing

it is written in your genes

You have little choice in the matter

Your forever beats inside of your ample chest

 

bumped and bruised

stomped upon and abused

Far more times than you can count

it will be discarded and disregarded

But know this is little else-sweet little black girl…

You shall do more than merely survive

You will continue to love

you will be loved

you will thrive

Your ancestors will not stand for anything less

and eventually neither will you

This world will learn to catch up

In time..

Epiphany Castro 2017 All Rights Reserved

Traveling without moving..

I just returned from vacation and one thing occurred to me.  I DO NOT DIG TRAVELING!  Ok so let me rephrase that-I prefer short spurts of vacations.. More than 3 days and I am hella tapped out.  I start missing my dogs,my bed and my pillows.

 

I know what you are thinking..I see you judging me..that’s cool tho..I still ain’t gonna change my mind tho…  I have done a gang of traveling in my 103 years on earth..I have finally come to the conclusion that I prefer a STAYCATION…yes sir!  I can do the short snorts…the long ones?  Nah..I’m good.  I know the romance of it all is quite enchanting.  I get that..but when it comes down to it I just cannot..  Traveling gets on my last black nerve.

 

Does this burst your bubble about me?  Maybe.  Does it matter? Nope. Did it ever matter? I doubt it.  What it does for me is a sense of freedom.  Telling the truth is always quite freeing.    My idea of a proper rest does not include the bullshyt at the airports from TSA or road trips holding my pee pee till the next stop.  Nope.  I would rather do a little staycation where I can return home in a maximum of 4 days.  Unless it was Paris.  Paris requires much more of a commitment.  I dig Paris…

In the meantime I will be sticking closer to home…The dope thing about living in the Bay Area is we have options!!!!  You want the beach?  Cool let’s go…You wanna ski-right on..Tahoe here we come…You want mountains and trees???  Redwoods..no problem.  We are the center of the universe in my opinion..  That is why San Francisco is often referred to as “The Paris of the USA”..That said..I will stay right here…in the most beautiful city in the world..San Francisco..

 

 

 

Where oh where have all the black owned beauty supply stores gone????

I am born and raised in Berkeley,California.  This means I grew up literally in a serious melting pot of culture. Going to the Beauty Shop on Saturday’s was pretty normal for most of us..others maybe on special occasions.  Me?  My Mommy and grandmamma had me up on the kitchen sink leaning back..unless it was Easter or sumthing special where the sent me to the shop.

blogit

 

This said I come from a pretty long line of women who took their hands into their own hair.  This also means we frequented numerous beauty supply shops in and around Berkeley.  There was always one open..always someone with a gang of advice to help and  always at a reasonable price..  I do not ever recall being treated poorly in any of these establishments.  I do not recall being followed around as if I am going to steal shyt.  I do not recall dreading going into these stores one bit.  In fact-much like my addiction to drugstores I used to REALLY dig going in and sniffing around.  When I was small I went with my mom…when I was in college I went with girlfriends and various hairdresser buddies.  Then one day…poof!  They all seemed to disappear.  Gone..  Bye.

 

The weird thing is most of the shops I frequented were family owned.  Generations of black folks doing their thang..  What happened to interest Asian business to swoop in and really just make straight $$$ off of african americans?  I am no expert,I do not  have the   answers..I just think it quite curious.  Remember in the film “Good Hair” when Chris Rock was trying to speak about nappy hair to the asian owner of a beauty supply??  He was basically told nappy hair doesn’t “sell”.

 

Hmmm…I know here in the bay area being natural is not a big deal..  In fact I see more natural black women than not for the most part.  I realize this is not always the case across the nation but we naturals have been making great strides.  When I fist returned to my natural state in 1993 there was no YouTube,instagram and such..No products available really for natural hair.  I cannot recall the last time I went into a beauty Supply and was helped by a black person..

koreanowned

 

Things have changed.  Now if you aint careful you can easily get sucked into the abyss of being a serious product  junkie. There are soooooooooooooo many products out there…Wouldnt it be nice just once in a while to walk into a store and be greeted by someone who looks like you who could help you with your needs and you KNOW they “get it”???

 

I am not sure if we will ever get back to that comforting time where you knew the person selling you products at the beauty supply but what I don’t understand is why there are literally NO BLACK OWNED BEAUTY SUPPLY STORES!!!!!  Come on…  I dont get it… Where did they go and why?  I miss them…Yes I buy ALOT of products from black owned companies online but what about Brick and mortar shops?  Will that warm and fuzzy welcoming feeling ever happen again??? Le Sigh…I wish I could say I am hopeful but well..I ain’t.