Tuesday, November 24, 2015


Excuse me
for a moment
My queen is screaming at me

I used to think
that I was just getting older
But then I cracked
and my back started to snap at me
My hips would give me lip service
My neck will whip lash me with sass into next week
When I was younger
Imprisoned by my disposition
lacking vertical precision
I remember my mother saying
to my sister and I
Why do you slouch so much
you should stand up taller
My sister would hunch
forward at the shoulders
and it would pull her chin down
so she stared at the ground
My hips would slump
forward and snake up my spine
and it would pull my chin down
so I stared at the ground
I didn't realize
what she was really saying
I don't know if she realized
what she was really saying
Now all the crooks in my core
that have been pinched
over the years
from improper posture
are refusing to carry that weight anymore
All the internal wounds
that my body
has been curling around
are bleeding through
refusing to hide
not even once more
The exaggerated curve
of these misaligned vertebrae
has been a map
of places to travel to
that need to be healed through
I have cradled my hips
at an inarticulate angle my whole life
My sexuality caged and protected
holding the unexpressed grief
from a history of abuse and misuse
The disc between my scapula
have consistently slipped
to make room for the heart
that would shrink back inside
to search for her courage
like a cowardly lion
If only she could see
that she is a lion
My chin pointing earthward
always kept me grounded
But it fought with my vocal chords
silently trying to escape to the sky
Their wrestling for position
distorting my crown and crane
creating the stretch and strain
from the multiplying thoughts
the yearning blossoms of my brain
Desire that kept on burning
trapped in that incinerator
as I consistently insisted
on slowly cremating my frame

I like to think I have an old soul
but my soul must have told the old
to wisely crawl into my body
to awaken me with aches and pains
now that I no longer have
the teenage angst
needed to refrain
doubtfully retreat
redundantly mistreat
the royal and regal that thankfully remains
This Thai Chi master
holding pose
fragile and unanswered
This old blues standard
rocking steady but unmastered
This ballet dancer
stretching slowly
intention overflowing
out of every undulating limb
It is time I embraced
such graceful consideration
Quiet, encompassing gentleness
selfless, shameless pride
cradled in reverence
through the loving humility
of my uniquely perfect posture
Holding the temporary presence
of my physical existence
as the sacred currency
of this appointed temple
Just as I imagine
my mother held me
gingerly and gratefully
for the first time
So I shall listen to her
I will stand taller
No more slouching
The origin of my lineage
will not have it

Excuse me
for a moment
I need to correct myself
My queen is calling for me

Monday, November 9, 2015

whirling dervish

Show me
is all that I have
Just when I think the world
has stopped spinning 
A whirling dervish 
swirls through my space
The circles my thoughts create
twist my body 
and then my body 
turns right back around 
twisting my mind
Is my identity that fluid 
or does my center just keep shifting
following the kinetic energy 
of concentric motion
When the pace slows down
I am left 
trying to stand
and I sink to my knees
Holding my head in my hands
pleading for mercy
an easing of the vertigo 
asking for direction
I send out the only prayer 
I have ever known

show me

Monday, November 2, 2015

I am

I am
there have been 
countless poems 
through the literary years 
of human history 
written as a statement of 
I am 
Maybe that is what poetry is 
A declaration of existence 
in times of isolation 
To hear the echoing of one's voice
as it bounces off the canyon walls of another 
to remind us 
that when we are lonely
we are never really alone 
So here is another
all my own 
An attempt that one could label 
as shameless narcissism 
but one would be wrong 
For it is simply a reach 
into the ether 
with an open hand
A recognition of complexity 
An identification of specificity 
A halting of oversimplification 
An attempt to cease 
this insistent pattern of self-judgment 
A cast shadow from dark clouds 
blown in by the gusts of self-doubt
White frothy plastic looking waves
Ice cold frozen paralyzing waves 
of useless guilt 
that crash into me again and again
Electric current left to coarse through me
insistent redundant instructional conversations
No wonder I have this overwhelming desire
to assemble this puzzle slowly in solo atonement 
atonement solely to myself
So let me say instead 
A statement of who 
I am
Shameless tender intentional placement of puzzle pieces 
one by one 
I can label this piece as shameless
If I want to 
and place it
wherever I like 
insistent implicit moral condescension 
externally imposed pretention
disguised as suggestion 
I can find the shape that says 
I am soft 
Allow the fluidity of definition 
to flux back-and-forth 
along the greyscale 
of that rendered graphite texture  
I can rescue and gently resuscitate 
the worn-out corner pieces
the ragged edge pieces
that say 
I am grit 
I can snap together
the repeat 
of easy pieces 
that sound out my heartbeat 
I am rhythm 
I am song 
I am music
I can fidget with the nameless piece 
that only exists as a color 
Nothing in particular needed to show you 
about where it belongs within the big picture
I am sky 
I am light
I am breath
I am soul
I can see the spaces 
where I have not quite discovered 
the right fit
There are empty holes 
that need to be filled with
I am love
I am good
I am worth
I am limitless 
I am endless
There are no spaces for criticism 
This is not a construction of analysis
Just because the puzzle is not assembled 
does not mean that it is broken or incomplete 
Even when all the pieces are in place
the cracks will still remain visible 
For I am growth
I am movement 
I am willingness 
I am reaching 
I am connection 
Just because 
all my life thus far
I have chosen to accept 
pieces of love
that were conditional and limited
does not mean 
Those pieces are misshapen and bent
misused and abused 
from attempts to force them 
into spaces where they did not fit
I shall flip them over
Choose the opposite
I am open
I am reception
I am clarity
I am whole
I am significance
I am significant 
Every piece of me
Every shiny piece
Every weathered surface
Every empty space
Every dark place
Every delicate
is significant 
Because I am significant 
Just because

I am