Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
It’s raining
On just my side of the street;
Don’t believe?
Come, Come and see;
Feel the water,
Wet,
upon what was dry skin,
Feel my different perspective,
That is so close
But won’t touch yours ;
“Hey, what’s it called,
This anomaly?”
“The scientific reasoning?”
“And why you, not me?”
“Or does it even matter?”
Consider:
If you come over,
Is it still “You” versus “Me”,
When the rain is shared?
I break molds,
Always have;
Despite how one might read me
I compulsively add caveats,
Exceptions to the case;
Once upon a time,
Frustrated by being outside boxes provided
I aimed to understand,
Why the damn boxes even existed,
A lifetime up to now
I realize they were created for the same reason
I was on a quest
–To understand,
A something that is beyond
Our understanding
–Understanding
Ourselves;
See I was never an anomaly
I was just the first
and only me;
My exceptions broke a mold
that never truly fit,
It’s people like me who continually fix it
–The question,
Not the answer;
It’s ever expansive,
The knowing of self,
It’s the frustration,
The confusion,
The loss and despair,
That makes us gaze in a mirror one day
And appreciate the person there;
Without the pains,
the pleasure of being
Is never so sweet,
lost to be found,
We only appreciate
And think to look up,
From the ground;
I break molds
Always will
Self Discovery,
In the pursuit of hunting words,
I find my take on the infinite,
My discussions with the universe,
The supreme beyond the capacity for any
Being,
It is everything, and is in everything,
And we are composed of it,
Stardust,
But more,
Greater,
Stardust creator,
I would not call it God,
For surely it is beyond,
Beyond concern,
And of concern for even immortal creations,
Does our sin offend it?
Surely not,
For we are created of it’s complex knots,
Of seeming contradictions,
Good and evil,
Up and down,
In and out:
Dichotomy.
He sees the difference,
Between us,
In our views,
In our tastes,
In our skin,
And he celebrates
Out loud,
Letting it slip off his tongue,
But I was taught we are all the same,
But I knew we were different,
But I just saw beauty in it,
How I envy his missing social mores,
That allow him to verbalize
What I was reared to keep tucked under tongue,
I want to learn,
To be like him,
To identify the differences and make them known,
For their existence is a secret,
We all pretend not to know,
Free my eyes to see,
Free my voice to speak this truth
When it need be,
For as I know,
In this difference,
Is human beauty
We want to say
“We are all the same,”
And believe it with our core,
It’s the message we were taught from cut and pasted MLK,
We don’t see the whole picture
If we close our eyes and assert the truth of our sameness,
But are we all the same?
Not in experience,
I cannot say I’ve lived a day in your shoes,
To appreciate how life is as you,
Human, sentient, even then variation makes our experiences
Different,
Location, soci political climate,
Characteristics that dictate our place in it,
Social qualifiers that mark our skin, our minds, our bodies, our heritage,
And the histories behind them,
Must not be glossed over,
It must be worked through,
Recognized,
To see the truth beneath,
And the real meaning meant
Of “we are all the same”.
9.15.2018
I cannot hate them,
Their hate is
What drove me
to LOVE,
If only I could have
Shared this gift
with them More,
If I had only realized
Before too late…
But perhaps
it is never too late.
I love you,
All.
She of Letters 