Poetic Truth

Must we be us?

noreply@blogger.com (I am) — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 10:00:00 +0000

Dedicated to all disenfranchised people the world over, and especially to the Hmong people hiding out in the upper mountains of Laos.

Why must we be one?

Why can't we be two?

Why can't we be we?

Why can't we be free?

Why can't I be me?

Why must we be us?

What is the great loss?

If we are not us?

What if I was 'I'?

And I had no 'you'?

Or you, no 'me'?

Would we be free?

Must you have me?

Should you have me?

Do you want me?

Or do you want mine?

I don't want you

You don't want me

I want to be free

I want to be me

I now want my own

I want to own mine

Without you and yours

I'll do just fine

If we were not us,

Then you could be you

And I could be me

And we could be free

We could be free...

We could be we.

Free Me?

noreply@blogger.com (I am) — Wed, 12 Mar 2008 23:08:00 +0000

Woman/Man
Doesn't this image by *Hugo* eloquently express our need to free both sexes without judging either? Can anyone tell what time it is? Time to act?

If I could switch to the other side

Of the sexual divide?

If I could be one of them;

One of those who have tried

To understand my kind

What then?

If I could awake as a woman

And mother a man

If I could be one of them;

One of those who have tried

To educate my kind

What then?

Would I empathize?

Or ruthlessly criticize?

Would I retreat in fear?

At the image of myself

judging myself?

What then?

Would I suppress?

Or viciously repress?

Would I furiously order

that I hide myself,

masking my beauty?

What then?

Would I defy?

Or sadly comply?

Would I passively obey

my unfair balance,

tolerating indignity?

What then?

If I could be them

Or they could me

Could they see?

If I was them?

Or they were me?

Would we see?

Do we see?

Do they see?

Who can see?

Who is the blind?

Whose eyes define

reality?

Who sees the truth?

The sons of superiority?

The daughters of equality?

The children of equity?

Who is free?

Who is bound?

Am I liberated or liberator?

Am I oppressor or oppressed?

Free me…

Free who?

Me? Or me?

No More Laughter

noreply@blogger.com (I am) — Mon, 10 Mar 2008 09:20:00 +0000

Shine on my little girl by Shutterhack

Found this lovely photo on Flickr. The girl in the photo isn't the subject of this poem, but are any of the hurting victims of sexual abuse out there any less beautiful.

I heard her voice every single day, laughing.
Rich bubbly sounds of pure emotion unsoiled by mature thoughts
Of cynicism.
When she laughs, it is a true
Sincere feeling.
I wish I could laugh like that… again.

I heard her voice every single night, laughing
Ringing peals of joyous delight unscarred by mature experiences
Of unfaithfulness.
When she laughs, she knows
Safety and peace of mind.
I wish I could laugh like that… again.

I heard her voice each and every day, laughing
Harmonious sounds of welcome untainted by mature doubts
Of motives
When she laughs, she trusts
Enjoyable people are here to play.
I wish could laugh like that… again

I heard other voices one dark night, raging
Bitter sounds of disgust charged with mature emotions
Of sympathetic anger
I saw her then, she was hurt
Innocence savagely stolen in the evening.
Now she would never laugh like that… again

Fruitcake

noreply@blogger.com (I am) — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 10:27:00 +0000

I'm cold

Cold like a fruit in a fridge

I'm cold not warm

I'm no fun; I'm in a fridge

But I'm sweet

Sweet like a cake in your mouth

Am I a cake?

Are you the fridge?

But I'm a fruit

Or am I a fruitcake?

Am I crazy?

Am I what you make me?

What am I?

Cake or fruit?

Here is Now

noreply@blogger.com (I am) — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 09:49:00 +0000

If I could fly

I wonder where I'd go

Anywhere but here

That's all I know

There is better

I'd be more fulfilled

I'd be more appreciated

I'd be more thrilled

Oh! I can fly

Never tried to before

Always felt as if

I could do nothing more

There is closer

It's close enough to touch

I'll soon have everything

I've wanted so much

I love to fly

'tis the greatest feeling

It gives me such joy

And it's so fulfilling

There will be here

Here will be there

Nothing's impossible

To those without fear

I have to fly

I can't bear to fail

I must reach the future

By effort or sheer will

Am I there yet?

Here is endless

There must be better

Here is friendless

I hate to fly

It's too tiring

If I don't fly, I fall

And falling is failing

There is too far

I should have been by now

Here's a place to rest

I'm going down

I used to fly

I've never knew I could

I don't fly like I must

I fly like I should

Here is there

I get it now

Here is everything

Here is now

My Pain

noreply@blogger.com (I am) — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 00:22:00 +0000

I hate myself

Yet… I must save myself

I am a victim of my own assault

Victim of my own faults

I hurt me

Not thee, thou or thine

My pain is mine

Drowsy

noreply@blogger.com (I am) — Thu, 06 Mar 2008 23:50:00 +0000

An unwanted embrace

Unyielding

Unforgiving of my attire

Unhelpful to my state of mind

Irritating to my senses

Congealing my focus

Making me slow

S-l-o-w-e-r than I need to be

Feeling heavy

Weighed down yet strangely I feel happier

Heavier and happier

No! Resist! Try…

Move feet, move limbs

Must stand up

Must not doze off at work.

In Search of Purpose

noreply@blogger.com (I am) — Thu, 06 Mar 2008 21:06:00 +0000

I seek a destiny invisible to my eyes
And inaudible to my ears
A place I must go to be fulfilled
For which I was born

I seek a cause to complete
To commence and conclude
A reason to be weighed by fate
No matter the outcome

I seek a name to be made
Fame to be claimed
To be remembered by
Those unborn

I seek a place to own;
My own mark on history
I will seek, I will search
I will find… my purpose