I wanted to let reader’s know that I’m still writing. I’m in pain right now ( I DIDN’T fall!) I’ve had a strong and pretty constant hip pain which has affected my ability to work as efficiently as I would prefer. Related, I also need more sleep. And, yes, I contacted my doctor long enough ago that I will be trying again tomorrow.
As a thanks for your patience I will share a poem I wrote, and then read, for another event on zoom last Sunday, enjoy!
A three year old, holding a pastel pink two cylinder bottle,
small fingers griping at the center gap
I was a “double fister,”one might say.
Looking at the hole in the wall,
I feared snakes, I knew there was no escape.
I was imagining -for the first time-
preparing for the life I didn’t know
that life of complex, every.damn.day.fear, trauma
I knew it when I was berated for pretending, hands-to-myself.
She opened the car door, where I sat alone,
telling myself a story out loud to pass the time
as she packed that blue Chevy-Nova.
“Don’t do that!” she spat, you sound Fuck’n crazy.
Before taking five young kids into hiding,
based on a delusion.
Eight-years-old.
Orange shag carpet
in the middle of a living room
Compassion and fear battled as I crawled around saving people
because, that is what makes me human.
In this real family home, safe to be weird.
When scarily fragile started to stick to me,
when “in-need” was spit-balled in my direction,
I laughed, at what people imagined.
And raged in the privacy of what could be,
what would be, and what was.
Imaginations so shriveled
egos with cracked armor.
I was protected with imagination,
Imagination crafted a shield of empathy and understanding
though sometimes difficult to wield,
and occasionally cracking
In the face of death, I imagined the pain to bear,
Looking inward, I lost the song of my soul,
I made death give me a new one for the price of my company.
I am alive now, because I became a bored hunter,
preferring protection against the strikes of enemies
over the ability to strike them down,
like a knife, the weapon fear can sever
and it is only the strength of a target
that can defend against it.
Sometimes while crossing over.
If I must pay the price of fear,
or the price of change,
you need not imagine
my choice.
I will pay for change, in any life I am given
I won’t imagine any other option
SickyBeat 