Transformers, December 29, 2014

Would you dare tell a butterfly that it should not be so many different things?

Slime-covered larva, big rig loaded with heart-shaped wings

Comically large for long-distance exploration

Insect-worms, half-breeds, biting and swallowing homespun prisons

(Instead of Martha Stewart blouses)

Convicted of being what they were, sentenced to gnawing rebirth

Would you stare at the larva?

Once, then walk; nature will hide it

In transformation

The debutante's coming out prize:

Glorious, life-saving color in flight

That ruefully diverts eyes

From any lurking ugliness

Would you shed protective skin to find the way home?

Emerging chrysalis, golden sheath, shed

Leaving migratory wings

Two delicate membranes, each in need of the other

Flight, vulnerability's reward
Vulnerability, gravity’s ransom

The fluttering kaleidoscope air-dances home

Knowing that nature does the same thing, over and over

Never labeled insane

When we choose to see beauty instead of a beast

Be Yourself, November 25, 2014

1. Be yourself.

2. No, the other one.

1. Be yourself.

2. We'll tell you who that is.

1. Be yourself.

2. Until we say stop.

1. Be yourself.

2. No such thing.

1. Be yourself.

2. Seriously?  You chose that?

1. Be yourself.

2. No variations allowed.

1. Be yourself.

2. By majority vote, we have eliminated your self.

1. Be yourself.

2. Fuck that shit.

1. Be yourself.

2. And we better not be able to tell you apart.

1. Be yourself.

2. But only if you have more to offer than that.

1. Be yourself.

2. The good self, unless the bad self is really the good self, or they're both the same, or not.

1. Be yourself.

2. So long as it pleases the greatest number.

1. Be yourself.

2. You're an easy target ... for our love, mostly.

1. Be yourself.

1. Be yourself.

There is no two, really. Though, the compassionate - and those with a willingness to hear their words without any bullheaded delays - are quite capable of suggesting a great number of improvements to the you, or to the me, that is. That's cool. Thanks!

Words for the Dark, November 28, 2014

In a black and white movie, what looked like a shamrock to me

Was a club to the person holding all the cards

Our house was old from the start

Patching and painting and tearing down and adding on

Telling ourselves the foundation was good though we never looked

Nothing but dirt, with poor drainage

Crumbling in a conflict between … god, who really gives a damn anymore?

All this while I obediently awaited his answers to my life

But in this dream

I looked him straight in the eye

After surveying that big house of cards that looked so damned good

From the outside

And said we can’t keep doing this

We must end this joint tenancy and go

Our separate ways

Because I deserve to live the life I’m still living

The whole of it not your half

He resisted and kept fighting

Waiting for the next time to show the hand

This ghost had dealt from a deck I didn’t know was stacked

In a game I’d never played

Making others believe, when I wasn’t present

That it was all me

Who kept him here and not his fear of leaving having just learned more about love

Because we were the teacher and the student

A duet of audience and solo performer

I understood his fear

He knew no better than I how or why we still shared these lessons much less this space

So he fought to be him and I fought to be me

In a friendlier game, no more high stakes poker until that day when

I told him that he was no longer welcome

I told him I’d be sad, lying without regret - well, some - because

I needed to meet him where he was and use language he understood and this language

One learned from him

Now designed to save my own skin

Made him feel like he could leave a winner

The final hand played

And just like that, he vanished

Exactly like he had all those years ago

I looked down and saw in my hand a royal flush, all hearts

I’d won back my home

Alone in the beautiful company of me

After all, when has being right ever helped a relationship?