Recognizing the intersectionality and many-layered aspects of our community, we’re excited this month to present poet, educator and writing warrior, Matthew Mejia. Based in Hacienda Heights and hailing from Indigenous, Mexican, and Japanese ancestry, Matthew takes us through two streams of consciousness, orienting us to the gifts of dreaming, of surviving beyond the fire of struggle, of remembering all of it. Enjoy…
— traci kato-kriyama
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Matthew Mejia is an American poet and an award-winning professor whose work and research explore trauma, fear, grief, epistemology, pedagogy, and the self. He is driven and inspired by his Japanese, Mexican, and Indigenous ancestry. I am my ancestors' dream, and their bones are mine. Through art, he continues to heal generations of violence and abuse in order to unify his communities. In the classroom, he advocates for student success and truly believes that students are the foundation on which academia stands. Matthew began a 501c3 arts advocacy nonprofit, Nervous Ghost Press, with the fundamental idea that writing saves lives. All people deserve to experience the beauty and power of the arts, and I will always fight to illustrate that our voices carry power and strength.
ARE WE ENOUGH TO BE FORGOTTEN
I suppose some things are supposed to happen
But who knows
Can we even
Think about the things we lose
Without even owning them
The thoughts we think when no words are
Enough to be forgotten.
What’s left when nothing was
Ever there to begin with
When no one was listening to
what was never said
was never thought there ought to be
a way to remember
to think about the past from
a future
pretense suffixed with I love you
and I wont forget you
but then one day
sooner than we hope
than we promised
is gone. Do we remember them truly
or are they stories from the clouds
to cradle us as we sleep
to start all over the next day.
Until it is we
Who are breath and sound
And lost.
WHY REMEMBER THEM IN FIRE?
Feet move faster in the cold
in silence fires aren’t the way back
no smoke signals
not this time
there wouldn’t be anything left
to destroy if not for gravestones
built by generational
hope what’s coming
what’s coming is
something worth trauma
something worth nightmares
coyotes follow the weak to bathe in
the strength of walking through blisters and
bare bones bloodied with the
someday it will be alright someday
not once will those dreams die
survived in blood in smiles and
children’s laughter
let them be monsters and dragons in space
no need to breathe there’s enough
why remember them in fire?
The revolution has begun
build the mausoleums with the
bodies of the damned the
souls without redemption
harvest thoughts and stack them tall
nothing gets through
nothing gets through it is
deserved it is wanted and wanting
the streets will run red with the
streets
it’s a message generations in the making
for this moment beyond all else
what has been and will be is
fools gold picked and mined
with mindless advocation born by
and raised from lies
why remember them in fire?
The land is poisoned
waiting to be cultivated into
anger hatred and the abandonment
of visions of fortune
a platitude believed to be destiny
a legacy tainted with
now
now
now
no longer is the longest term necessary
its quick and oh so quickly
is it forgotten
the reason
the struggle
standing defiantly so against the sky
with hands only
ought not stop
not yet
there’s something more
is it this?
Hold with graces with
utter confusion and resolve
the wind carries what cannot
be lifted what will not
be smothered burns brighter than whatever
pretense’d message painted on walls and
in skulls
sacrifices are not yet wasted the
edge creeps closer the
ruining of temptations of violence
with petty violins orchestrating a way home
listen controlled without purpose
listen to the falling leaves sing
listen to the snow crisp and cured
it is not over an elemental detriment
a hallowed out body with upside down
eyes is not the future not yet
it ends here?
From these hands?
wounds healed by dust and with what cause?
Foot after foot held out not
gave up and yet and
so why,
why remember them in fire?
*These poems are copyrighted by Matthew Mejia (2024)
© 2024 Matthew Mejia
