I am the anomaly,
I am what they feared,
For I can see through
And into eyes
Not of my own,
I am the colonizer’s weapon…
And downfall.
Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
I am the anomaly,
I am what they feared,
For I can see through
And into eyes
Not of my own,
I am the colonizer’s weapon…
And downfall.
I was born
A yesterday of yesterdays
Bare,
But skin to my back,
I find family in spectral hues of epidermis,
Find love
Where it was,
and where it was not
to be promised at first
I grow,
stirring,
Determined,
Bossy,
to say the least,
I am a strong stalked flower,
My curls
Lush chocolate petals
I am the butterfly
That from a caterpillar
changed its shape and color,
Before your eyes slowly emerging,
Wings wet
with new and dew,
I come to be through struggle,
Overcoming adversity,
My fears
Are not of darkened shadows
But of the void of unknown ifs,
Fearful possibilities
Of life unlived,
I am the philosopher
With a problem
For every solution,
I am a seeker,
a thinker,
a complex web
Of as yet thought thoughts,
Give me time
I ask,
-So ask we all,
I am building my legend,
Piece by piece,
I am a lover,
Of few,
And all,
Holding my treasured so tightly
For fear they might break,
I give and give,
Wanting so much to multiply the love,
Into endless existence,
I am a creator,
An artist,
The young life before me,
Is my greatest piece,
I nurture,
water,
feed,
teach,
tend,
inspire her
In ways I know,
And in ways anew,
She is my story,
with a story of her own,
I am a mystic,
Finding light
in new corners,
Unexpected beauty
from the universal source,
Finding truth,
In the metaphysics
Experienced as if new,
I am the ill and well
In one package,
My healing and my hurting
Are not easily untangled from each other,
But both toughen the core,
With scar tissue
My inner
And outer
Are reborn,
I am everything
In me,
A soul with many
Names
Titles
To identify me,
But my soul
Ageless,
Graceful,
As it floats through being,
The essence
In all aspects of me
What comes next
I wonder,
But dare not guess,
Suspense
Makes this life fuller,
With richness
So decadent it can be tasted,
Can be sensed
In the air,
In the textures,
In the living,
In the every
Next moment
That will,
And does,
Then still
Inspires.
Purple gypsy butterfly
You dance, you sing, you laugh, you cry
You change, you write, you share, you fly
But who am I to pretend,
To deny,
When I am you
And you are I
Well oiled,
Never seeing,
The ties that bind,
The tightly fitted cogs
That tick,
Tock,
Set in motion
A clock face never sees
Its own mechanics,
The screws,
wheels,
Springs,
Never outside
the finished product
But, they are all
valuable,
And of purpose,
independently
Until
Fitted in,
By a
hand,
Each piece
loses
independence,
and independent value;
Interconnected,
but seperated
from the other,
Each dependent on
maintained
function of
the "clock",
To thus do a job
of the machine,
for the hand.
8/3/2018
February 17, 2005
Lost to me
Are a thousand yesterdays,
Lost to me are the words
Foreign to the tongue
While familiar to the ear,
Lost to me are my peoples
The ones that stare back
In pictures of the past,
Lost to me
Is the life,
The nature,
The heart of a land,
I am too far from to call my own,
Lost to me are dreams of unity,
Dreams of peace,
Prosperity,
Liberty,
Acceptance,
Lost to me are the names,
The voices,
Faces,
Lost to me is a lineage
I can claim,
Lost to me is another world
Another way,
Label me,
But can you take way
The never knowing
Where you have come from?
Living as if the past had never been,
Lost to me is my identity,
As the child of a line
that is lost to me.
August 3, 2017
A song I have not heard
For years,
First few chords
And suddenly I am
15 again,
Ambitious and terrified,
Mapping me,
Experimenting in identity apothecary,
Blazing trails as if
I am fearless,
What a facade!
And memories are bittersweet
As I hear the song,
Boldly crooning,
Unapologetically,
Love of “Who I Am”