Rosemarie tapped my shoulder to whisper, It’s time. I leapt to my feet and sat on the edge of the bed taking Grandma’s hand as she took her last few br…
qianya vinson
I got off the bus one stop early so that I could take the shortcut down Guerrero to 18th. By providence, I caught a stranger’s eyes on me as I exited t…
qianya vinson
A year from yesterday, I sat quiet with my grandmother on the couch in her living room. It was before the nurses were there around the clock. Before sh…
qianya vinson
This is a picture of me from 6 years ago, attempting to do crow pose in my kitchen. I centered my Manduka equidistant from the stove and butcher block …
qianya vinson
Welcome to montrescher by me, qianya vinson (she/her/hers). I am a poet, fledgling novelist, knitwear queen, former burlesque beauty and all around bla…
qianya vinson
WordPress is a lovely tool, no doubt, but requires a bit too much thought and effort when all a bitch wants is to write. This year is teaching me to ow…
qianya vinson
I have been so busy with work. Right now I am juggling two jobs as I continue my regular public health role and then split that with being a Disaster S…
qianya vinson
The path to myself has had, and continues to have many, many detours. But I am working on being the one I choose, every time. we had we had a date and …
qianya vinson
Growth, whatever you want to call it, "the path", our journey, ascension to higher consciousness. No matter the name, when you're in the shit, it can f…
qianya vinson
Many times in my life, fear has paralyzed me on my way to becoming. In order to counter my impulse to quit before obstacles gave way to disappointment;…
qianya vinson
Been thinking about relationships. The way they ignite, sparkle and then sometimes dim. Thinking about how many of my black girlfriends have raged abou…
qianya vinson
This (and others I will post) is not a new poem, but a slightly reworked one from years ago. In this covid cave experience, I have found myself looking…
qianya vinson