I want to shout enough!
About the places that we board and we take and we squander.
The women crying out! Listen to them
The vulnerable, the small, the poor,
We steal their right to be.
To speak is to exist, to take up space, to complete the whole.
I want to have a tantrum like a toddler
Scream the hurt and pain that lingers.
Why do those in power get the voice?
Why do those with money get the choice?
The woman who sat with her coffee and her paper
The men with their boots and opinions
The women playing mahjong and bridge
They gather, they talk, they interview, they bring
Their family and sisters and brothers
And developers? They say it’s not enough.
Not enough money.
They say you are not enough!
The love of money is evil, he said, and he was right.
We love it so much we give those who have it the right
Where buses go, good produce, green parks.
The best streets, the most trees,
The beings we save and the beings we let die.
These words aren’t enough!
Why do we act from scarcity?
Why don’t you act scared of me?
I am the woman, the athlete, the mother
I speak for the little, the forgotten,
the soil, the air, the mammals warm and dying,
the children, the teenagers, the elderly.
They are our enough!
Give them food and shelter,
Give them beauty and plenty,
Hell, give them money, yes a minimum standard for everyone
to ease the burden, to lift the weight
So they can fly, their imagination, their ingenuity, their creativity
To experience this world in all its beauty!
Beauty is enough!
Why do we take land from native people and
native flowers and trees and birds and bears?
There is enough!
Stop reaching, stop taking, stop fighting,
Why aren’t the voices speaking for love
Amplified like the fear that we hear in the news
In the news, it is not enough, but here, right here
It is enough.
WE ARE ENOUGH
to turn the tide
To stop the hate and the violence and the unjust, the persecution and damning blindness.
ENOUGH I say to administrations that abuse and use and persecute and squander
The beauty that is the immigrant and the refugee,
And the dream that most Americans have woken from.
Enough! Enough guns for they fail
To make us safe, they replace
The words we need to speak
To hear where we hurt, where we are ignored and forgotten.
Walk into the garden, look at the pain the world is in
put your guns down, dig your hands in, sweat!
It is enough!
What words do I need?
Life is too short
Life is too precious
Life is found in forgotten streets,
in quiet meadows,
in trees growing through sidewalks,
in the apartments shoved out
and all the people who made their home
there stepped on, told to go.
Enough, I say,
Are you uncomfortable yet?
Is this Enough?
Your voice belongs here, too. Please,
an invitation to
Tell us your enough