#eve ewing
Spider-Man and Ms Marvel to join forces for Marvel Team-Up
Courtesy of Ironheart writer Eve Ewing and artist Joey Vazquez!
Post link
Affirmation
to youth living in prisonafter Assata Shakur
Speak this to yourself
until you know it is true.
I believe that I woke up today
and my lungs were working,
miraculously,
my voice can sing and murmur and ask,
miraculously.
My hands may shake, but they can hold
me, or another.
My blood still carries the gifts of the air
from my heart to my brain,
miraculously.
Put a finger to my wrist or my temple
And feel it: I am magic. Life
and all its good and bad and ugly things
scary things which I would like to forget
beautiful things which I would like to remember
– the whole messy lovely true story of myself
pulses within me.
I believe that the sun shines
if not here, then somewhere.
Somewhere it rains,
and things will grow green and wonderful.
Somewhere inside me, too, it rains,
and things will grow green and wonderful.
Sometimes my insides rain from the inside out.
And then I know
I am alive
I am alive
I am alive
Eve L. Ewing (via http://www.liberationlib.com/affirmation-poem.html)
Post link
Eve L. Ewing reads her poem ‘Why You Cannot Touch My Hair’
my hair is my childhood friend who used to come over every day and became cool in high school and then began to do drugs and then ran away but now is back trying to get her life together and we have coffee together one Sunday morning before her shift at the grocery store
my hair was in a zoo. my hair escaped from the zoo and took out three officers of the law before they shot my hair up full of tranquilizers. tranquilizers only because my hair is too valuable to die
my hair is a speakeasy. it’s not that no one can get in– it’s just that you don’t know the password
my hair did a lot of work and climbed many mountains literal and metaphorical to get here. my hair ran out of oxygen tanks a mile back and has been heaving for breath ever since but is determined to reach the summit. my hair endured a bonnet last night. that’s a lot of work
my hair is a technology from the future and will singe your fingertips, be careful
my hair doesn’t care about what you want
my hair has a brother. I washed and conditioned and moisturized and combed and braided my hair’s brother in the kitchen sink when my hair’s brother was depressed. my hair’s brother has a daughter. my hair’s brother’s daughter is tenderheaded and I sing while I comb her, holding her at the roots, touching her forehead so gently and telling her I love her while she cries
