I Keep Being Me: Sad, Sassy and Hopeful Poems

Tied to This Rock

Here I am tied to this rock, with an eagle pecking out my liver every day.

I brought it on myself.

But my blood is poisoning the river that flows to everyone I love.

Is there any way to be a different me, one who’s blood doesn’t poison?

One who’s bleeding doesn’t contaminate and harm?

I’m searching for a silken pathway back to the safe me

While tied in perpetuity to this rock.

—

 

The Context of Our Texts 

Our taxes pay for textbooks made in Texas.

And Texas is a nexus of anti-science excess.

The architects of science rejects

Create a vortex of false subtext

Any text that comes from Texas stunts a child’s cerebral cortex

And thus our schools will vex us

Until the world exits

This scientific anorexus.

 

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I Know I’m Alive

I know I’m alive because the dandelions are more radiant than ever

I know I’m alive because a baby is crying

I know I’m alive because my toe hurts for no discernible reason

I know I’m alive because I know I’m alive

 

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I Live in Small Ways

I find life in between bouts of death

I live in small ways

In the shades of the calmly rippling waters

In the disinterested trees

In the air that’s filled with insect life

In the delicate, white flowers

Clustered in a dandelion’s soft yellow haze

I keep being me

In unexpected moments

Breathing in the light

Life sprouting from the cracks of death

A tree stump saturated with living energy

Despite myself, I keep being me

 

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For thoughts on the diminishing nature of friendship, click this flower: