VINYLE zine Iss. 3

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Better to be human

Than God

-Langston Hughes

There is no greater feeling than seeing words on paper. It’s almost as if every thought, every truth, every lie, comes to life, and is manifested–made real. I would argue that a mother doesn’t believe she is pregnant until she first sees the ultrasound, or feels the baby’s first kick, or hears its heartbeat. There is something about that love coming to life and being tangible. That every vein is felt. Similar, to women and our words. I appreciate every woman who used their voice and decided to let me be a beacon to share it with others in this third tangible publication of Vinyle. For Black people, our emotions and tribulations carry so much weight. For us as Black women, it is this same weight, amplified, that we carry throughout our lives–almost as a heavy stone beaten in. It is this same weight for us all that we attempt to convey to others hoping to explain and be understood–just by that fixture between thoughts and you. Again, I appreciate everyone assisting to share their voices, and I want to continue to share our love for words, as we are a poetic group of people that articulate our souls through our art.

Love and kindness, KRF

POETRY

Jonni “BEHOLDER”

Ifonly beauty could see me,

They speak so smoothly, I listen so patiently,

To sign them

And name them

So sweet, a breath of truth

Over voice,

So sweet and light,

Eyes so big, and dreamy

Smile so petite, but big

And a dimple to continue

Dimpled in depths of love

Glass chocolate skin

I crave to touch,

To hold

To seep in

So petite and sweet

An angel

To be beautiful inside,

But out, bring chills

Through the nerves, the shocks,

On the heart, A rush to the gut

The pit of sorrows

The hurt

Now it is racing,

My lungs out of breath

A need

So sweet

Like unfiltered air.

Ava Rose “DivinE FEmininE”

Queens–you make the world go round

With all your twists, and turns, and curves It’s your beauty that has preserved–The universe, giving shape to all form,

You’re the chaos and the calm of a storm, your womb created galaxies, The primordial essence,

Remember that and never settle, for Anything less than your potential, Your mere presence is influential, Eternal muses, nothing is coincidental It’s all inspired, by your energy

You turn living into love,

Letting it pour down from up above, You rain showers that help things to grow, The reason that water flows, And intuition tells you things you don’t know, Its time to reclaim the thrown, Pick up your crowns,

And tap into the unknown,

Showing all the things that were hidden, You are what we’ve been missing, But finally found Queens–you make the whole world go round

Monika Fox

"Why is my chest caving LikE it’s 2016"

Why is my chest caving like it’s 2016?

Like I’ve never seen a therapist

Like I’m a much less evolved me

As if something has happened

As if something was supposed to be

What in the fuck is PTSD?

Nothing in my present mind can identify the problem at hand

I’m telling myselfto breathe and then forgetting I can

As if I’ve I travelled back to a time that has become so foreign to me

How does one week off medication

Make itso easy to bleed

What if I can never handle being triggered

And this is my eternity I feltitcreeping all day but didn’t know what was coming

That feeling that came once he was done

The one I’m notallowed to speak

Now, the moment I feel love

Is the same moment I feel weak

Feel too heavy to handle

And too empty to keep.

Kapri Washington

things i'll remember forever:

(many of them, Sundays).

collecting worms in the rain with Dad when i was four, then we’d wash our hands and get burgers from In N Out, those white frilly socks Mom would make me wear to church in addition to stockings of course, walking to the corner store with Granny after the service to get potato chips (she never left without a Coke), building sandcastles with my siblings and cousins (on Sundays that we were with Dad, we didn’t go to church), the lyrics to “I Wish It Would Rain” by The Temptations (i could probably also count how many times it rained- after all it was L.A.), how long it took them to finish the construction on Crenshaw (they started when i was in middle school and continued well through my college years), the day i started liking avocado, the sound of airplanes taking off from LAX, which was right next to In N Out, (the only restaurant still open when we’d return to the dorms from a party at 1a.m. now Sunday morning), the first time i boarded a plane alone, the moments that i introduced my old self to my new,

sunsets- all of them- Santa Monica, Venice, much later

my first date, Playa Vista, also a sunset, same sand where a decade ago, we built those castles.

..

Malibu,

Ava Rose “PERcEPtiOn”

Sometimes I struggle with perception–

Cus for my own protection,

I don’t wanna be seen in the wrong way

–I know it’s all projection

And your thoughts don’t make me less than My potential, but reputation Really carries some weight

Might have to keep things private

But I like being exposed

I think it’s more authentic, that way

Keeping people on their toes we have many dimensions

I wanna share all my sides society will make you think, it’s better if you hide

–From your shadows

And present yourself,

To make everyone pleased,

Even if you leave a few tricks,

Tucked up your sleeve

Limiting yourself so, you’re not caught up in these labels

Where they try to put you down,

The way that Cain did Abel,

If you can’t stick to the fable

Put every card on the table

Cus I’m not playing a game–I come with too much,

To really give it a name, And, I finally accepted,

That I’m not someone to claim,

Choosing happiness over Everything –I am everything

So it might get freaky, Gotta look up, If you tryna reach me

And I am not ashamed, if it makes me feel good, I no longer feel the need –to be understood. You can take me as I am, Or not take me at all,

But I’m not holding back Or following protocol, Cus ima throw it back, And live off the wall,

Yeah I’m on the rise–

Just getting up from my fall.

KRF “UNfLOwERing”

So many have come, And admired my petals, Caressed my satinfleshy tips, And wrapped their saturatedfingers Around my stem, And chose me as their own, To toss me, back Onto, the ground

To rot, and To decay

For I,

To find the seeds And root myself once more.

Kapri Washington

“JunE 2020”

what is a summer storm?

you understand now a deadly pandemic, emerging in your last semester of college cancelling graduation, scattering your best friends across the country, without closure

what is a summer storm? it is delightfully warm nights, marigolds blossoming, hopefulness until you find out that your lover is

loving someone new it is sunlight nudging you at seven a.m., erasing the shadows, melting the dew but you keep the blinds shut as tight as your eyelids. constant fatigue. they say that’s a symptom of accumulated grief a summer storm is a cerulean sky suddenly swept with clouds that starts pouring rain or it is an eruption of family dysfunction on your best friend’s birthday no one notices when you excuse yourself to pour your rain

your friends told you that if you moved to Georgia this time of year, despite the blossomings, there’d be lightning and thunder you tell them that you’re used to contradictions

on the night of the summer solstice there were fireflies and a new moon but the sky cried herself to sleep it felt familiar.

Monika Fox

"Every day He Tells Me"

He’d rather not.

He looks me in my eyes

Tells me how much he loves, being in my arms

And the second he looks away

He’d rather not:

Feel the warmth of love, He says he’s undeserving he doesn’t have the time, He says I’d expecttoo much of him

But,

He’s never once asked me what I want He’d never believe me, anyways

He sees himself in me

He couldn’tsee me if he wanted I am, but a reflective abyss

Ofall the parts he wishes to avoid

And if I am an abyss his love is a void

To which he feeds his unsuspecting lovers

My muse, he’d rather not Give freely the affection, I’m fated to search for The approval, I’ve been trained to crave The attention, I’d bleed dry for He is

Just a boy

A boy who’d rathernot Maintain my fragile heart

Orsoothe the wounds ofmy psyche

I’llkeep picking the scabs

Then licking them clean

Even though, I too, rather not.

PROSE

KRF “kAts”

Adimly lit chandelier hangs over an intimate restaurant table. Two acquaintances sit opposite each other with waning candles at their table sides.

“Girl, I took my cat to get surgery the other day, and all I could think of was damn, ‘what a waste of a good kitty,” Fox said.

“Girl, what?” Sophie laughed in between her sip of water.

“I didn’t tell you how my cats been moaning and groaning throughout the house because she’s in heat? I took her to get spayed the other day,” Fox also laughed between a sip, but of champagne, “and now she can’t have any of these strays running around, so she has a stick up her ass towards me. I’m like whore join the club.” She tipped the wineglass back until it was empty.

“Damn, how long’s it been for you?” Sophie asked.

“Girl, I stopped counting after five years.” Fox said, playing with the olive and strawberry at the bottom of her glass. The candle flame at her side cascaded a shadow over her face.

“Five years!” Sophie exclaimed.

“Appetizers! On the house.” A waiter said, intervening with a charcuterie board of h’dourves.

“On the house? Who sent these?” Fox asked.

“To my discretion, I was simply told I hope you all enjoy the cannoli rolls. Anything else to drink?” The waiter asked.

“No, we’re good,” Fox said.

“Okay. Enjoy ladies.” The waiter walked away.

“On the house? Someone must be digging me.” Fox said. The flame at her side radiated.

Lorem Ipsum dolor sit

“Maybe someone wants to take you out of your 5-year withdrawals.” Sophie said, circling her lips with a strawberry. The candle beside her burned evenly.

“It will take a lot more withdrawals to get me out of my draws, okay. I chose this withdrawal honey. Nothing worse than getting distracted by these no plan ass men. I just have standards.” The flame aside, Fox dimmed lowly.

“Those standards gonna make you cranky. I know you be wanting some.” Sophie said, grabbing one of the cannoli rolls.

“I could get some if I wanted,” Fox defensively slurred, “but for now this kitty is sealed tight. The length of my money gets me off.” She folded her acrylic stiletto nails towards her ear, “just the sound of rubbing dollar bills turns me on.”

“I know that’s right.”

“Still, I do like for men to look my way. Give attention like when I’m at the gym. But still, I have a certain goal in mind, and commitment is just not in the vision. For now, at least. I don't want to become such an old fart that I’m .”

“Your platters ladies.” The male waiter returned with the women’s food.

“Oh, I ordered the steak with two lobsters, this is three.” Sophie told the waiter.

“Oh, honey you can afford it. If not, I got you on the tab. Treat yourself, don’t cheat yourself.” Fox waved her stiletto nails towards Sophie’s direction.

“Ma’am, I’ll ensure your bill reflects what you ordered, but I think the chef will be alright.” The waiter said, and then disappeared again.

“He’s actually cuuuuttteee,” Fox said.

“Yeah. I feel sorry for your cat. I can’t imagine not having sex in my life. I think I’d become something I don’t want to be.” Sophie’s flame swayed.

“What’s that?” Fox mumbled through teeth filled with spinach.

“And another bottle of bubbly. Desire. House choice.” The waiter said, refilling Fox’s empty wine glass, and then replacing the empty bottle of Prosecco Fox finished all by herself, before he walked away once more.

“Okay girl, who do you think he likes?” Fox eagerly asked. The candle danced earnestly.

“What makes you think he likes us? Maybe he just knows we’re rich and takes care of rich people accordingly,” Sophie concurred.

“Noooo, no, sweetie. You have a lot to learn about this business of men. I can tell when someone is taking a shot. Now who do you think he’s taking a shot at?”

“I don’t really care, girl. All I know is we need to get you a man in your life, for real. We should go out, and I’ll be your wing woman. You could even be a wing woman for me.” The candle at her wayside continued to burn evenly.

“A wing woman for what? Are you seriously entertaining love? Right now?” Fox slurred through a laugh.

“If love comes to me, I wouldn’t let it pass me by. No matter what I have going on in my life,” Sophie said.

“I admire your perspective sweetie, but you ain’t read the news? It’s ghetto out here. We’d be better off marrying ourselves. Look at you now. You buy your own hair, your own dresses, your own nails, put gas in your own car, so what do you need a man for? The moment I have to ask him to do these things, and he says no, he’s out. I don’t know why I’d even waste my time,” Fox said, her flame retreating slowly.

The two were silent until the bill came.

“Your check, ma’am.” He handed Sophie her bill and handed Fox hers nodding.

“He is definitely into me. Did you see how he held my eyes?” Fox said watching the waiter walk back towards the kitchen.

Sophie turned her check and saw a number written on it. Fox saw Sophie gawking too long at her check and snatched it from her hand. Sophie softly smiled.

“Oh, baby don’t tell me you can’t foot your own ,” she saw the number attached at the bottom, “he gave you his number? I can’t believe they still do that like what time are we living in. Oh, I forgot, he’s a waiter, what is time to them? Strays.” A silence fell upon them. “You’re not taking this seriously, are you?”

Fox returned her bill with her card attached. Sophie returned hers the same, with her phone number included. The flame finally extinguished.

Index

Fox, Monika, 8, 11

Johnni, 6

KRF, 12, 15

KRF artwork, title page, 2, 6, 7, 10, 16

Rose, Ava, 7, 10

Washington, Kapri, 9, 13

Want to Be Featured on the Zine?

Vinyle is a Black literary journal pedagogically driven to increase the cultural literacy in the African Diaspora. Vinyl gauges Black writers to tell their stories through their lenses.

Contact:

Email submission(s) to vinylezine@gmail.com

With the format–

First name, Last name; Name of Submission; Genre of submission. Send in a Word document or PNG JPEG for artwork.

For more details regarding literary forms sought out, visit the Contemporary Literature catalog to read preceding writers’ submissions of Black literature.