Before label and face
I was sardine packed
In the galactic tin
Cozy
Where
Gravity befuddles and
Our models break down
We were all
Catapulted with abandon
One point to
Expansive Ocean
Wrenched from the cold womb
Not yet capable of kicking and screaming
I
Exhaled to build the planet’s atmosphere
Braved land with stomach home-sick for water
Moved from trees to plains
Hunted in tribes
Drove hammer to nail
Was born a thousand times
Died just as many
Recently
Fingered accordion to temper the taste for Finland
Drunken bar-fights to hide the pain of leaving home
Hands callused from tending to the soil
Scars like medals of honor tacked to my soul
I was too strong to bow
God, war, and patriotism
The idols of the United States
Instead we
Served jail time with chin high
Today
My spine appears to be made of titanium
My heart still soft and tender
I lasso dreams just long enough
For others to pop them with a pin
Still remember who I was back then
Often unable to recall who I am these days
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
A different take on the identity crisis
I wish someone had told me...
How hard this teaching thing was going to be, before I dove into the pool head first
How harsh Minnesota winters could be
I don't (and probably never will) have all of the answers
And that was OK
How hard it is to get up and go to a group of strangers that all seem to enjoy writing
That these earrings do not go with this outfit, that there is rip in the back of these jeans, and that I really don't belong here
How much I ramble so I don't end up rambling the night away
What was in the punch
That orange is not the new pink
I wish someone would let me know their name, once in a while.
That children have a mind of their own sometimes (OK, all the time.)
I wish someone had told me at least once that I was smart.
I wish someone told me (at least once) that I was pretty...instead of saying that looks aren't important.
That I can be strong and tactful at the same time, that I can make friends at the same time I make enemies, and that I don't need a group of "Friends" to validate my very existence.
That money doesn't grow on a tree in my backyard and that digging to China is harder than it looks.
That San Francisco is more than 1,000 miles away.
I wish someone had told me that I was over 1,000 miles away from home and I would never, ever, need any help.
I wish someone had told me how to survive.
How hard this teaching thing was going to be, before I dove into the pool head first
How harsh Minnesota winters could be
I don't (and probably never will) have all of the answers
And that was OK
How hard it is to get up and go to a group of strangers that all seem to enjoy writing
That these earrings do not go with this outfit, that there is rip in the back of these jeans, and that I really don't belong here
How much I ramble so I don't end up rambling the night away
What was in the punch
That orange is not the new pink
I wish someone would let me know their name, once in a while.
That children have a mind of their own sometimes (OK, all the time.)
I wish someone had told me at least once that I was smart.
I wish someone told me (at least once) that I was pretty...instead of saying that looks aren't important.
That I can be strong and tactful at the same time, that I can make friends at the same time I make enemies, and that I don't need a group of "Friends" to validate my very existence.
That money doesn't grow on a tree in my backyard and that digging to China is harder than it looks.
That San Francisco is more than 1,000 miles away.
I wish someone had told me that I was over 1,000 miles away from home and I would never, ever, need any help.
I wish someone had told me how to survive.
Identity crisis of EPIC proportions PART DEUX
The thoughts drift in
You're too ugly
You're not thin enough
You're being absurd
I'm not creative enough
I don't have enough experience
I am wasteful
I am a waste
I could have done that so much better
I don't deserve the respect of a teacher
I'm not a teacher
Why would I want to be a teacher?
I can barely speak
I'm too smart for this
But I can't show it
I'm working daycare
No one wants to hire me
I'm not shooting high enough
My parents wouldn't approve
It's not what I really want
I don't know what I really want
I can't concentrate on anything
I need to leave
I need to stay
I need to prove myself
I've already proven myself
But why won't anyone notice?
Don't listen to me
I don't know what I'm talking about
I can't even dress myself
Look awful
Feel awful
Black cloud
Foggy
Don't look at me
Please help me
Why aren't you taking care of yourself?
There is no time
No time at all
I want to prove myself
I need to show them what I'm made of
I am jello
I am nothing
I want to help
I want help
Everything I know is wrong
Is it?
What if I fail again?
I can't fail again
I just can't
Shut up and get over yourself
Stupid
You're too ugly
You're not thin enough
You're being absurd
I'm not creative enough
I don't have enough experience
I am wasteful
I am a waste
I could have done that so much better
I don't deserve the respect of a teacher
I'm not a teacher
Why would I want to be a teacher?
I can barely speak
I'm too smart for this
But I can't show it
I'm working daycare
No one wants to hire me
I'm not shooting high enough
My parents wouldn't approve
It's not what I really want
I don't know what I really want
I can't concentrate on anything
I need to leave
I need to stay
I need to prove myself
I've already proven myself
But why won't anyone notice?
Don't listen to me
I don't know what I'm talking about
I can't even dress myself
Look awful
Feel awful
Black cloud
Foggy
Don't look at me
Please help me
Why aren't you taking care of yourself?
There is no time
No time at all
I want to prove myself
I need to show them what I'm made of
I am jello
I am nothing
I want to help
I want help
Everything I know is wrong
Is it?
What if I fail again?
I can't fail again
I just can't
Shut up and get over yourself
Stupid
Identity crisis of EPIC proportions
It was a disaster
My milk is two days old
And I knew no one
I walked back to my car alone
To drive back to my house
That I rent from the guy who was supposed to show up
That sounds different than the way it is supposed to
I’m not involved
With anyone in any way
I loved listening to stories from staff
Meeting people I haven’t met before
Still I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t supposed to be there
I don’t belong
To anyone
Not even myself
My milk is two days old
And I knew no one
I walked back to my car alone
To drive back to my house
That I rent from the guy who was supposed to show up
That sounds different than the way it is supposed to
I’m not involved
With anyone in any way
I loved listening to stories from staff
Meeting people I haven’t met before
Still I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t supposed to be there
I don’t belong
To anyone
Not even myself
Saturday, December 12, 2009
HZL to GRN
upon my 25th year on this earth
my eyes have changed.
from HZL to GRN,
according to my drivers license.
i secretly scribbled down the change of color
as the woman looked right through me.
"read the top line" she said.
"stedfhuwldmhl" i read aloud.
but i really wanted to say
"i can be whoever i want."
how about this:
loss of 10 pounds.
donating my organs.
listening to the crunchiness of autumn.
placing old secrets in new chambers.
bringing back the dead.
putting death to my demons.
claiming silence in a noisy world.
opening closed doors.
asking questions without answers.
living in a home full of empty rooms.
desiring my deepest fears.
if only i could re-invent myself.
just check yes here,
no there.
pass it on.
process the fees.
print me a new card
with real changes.
and there is
no
expiration date.
renewable upon request.
my eyes have changed.
from HZL to GRN,
according to my drivers license.
i secretly scribbled down the change of color
as the woman looked right through me.
"read the top line" she said.
"stedfhuwldmhl" i read aloud.
but i really wanted to say
"i can be whoever i want."
how about this:
loss of 10 pounds.
donating my organs.
listening to the crunchiness of autumn.
placing old secrets in new chambers.
bringing back the dead.
putting death to my demons.
claiming silence in a noisy world.
opening closed doors.
asking questions without answers.
living in a home full of empty rooms.
desiring my deepest fears.
if only i could re-invent myself.
just check yes here,
no there.
pass it on.
process the fees.
print me a new card
with real changes.
and there is
no
expiration date.
renewable upon request.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Snapshot of Love #4
Maybe
I will let this wind
Enter my veins
Let it carry me
To a new calling
We could
Cross this street
And take the bus in the opposite direction
Go down Lyndale
Until we can’t go any further
Hop onto a different line
End up in one of the suburbs
We could
Smile
For real at first
You
Would stay at home
I would get a few more ties
I would trade my diet
For an all-you-can-eat buffet
You would sacrifice
Red-dyed hair for
Lipstick and fingernail polish
Our house
Indecipherable
Our affect
Blunted
Maybe
You can stay where you are
And
I will stay where I am
Today
Let me ignore the wind
I will let this wind
Enter my veins
Let it carry me
To a new calling
We could
Cross this street
And take the bus in the opposite direction
Go down Lyndale
Until we can’t go any further
Hop onto a different line
End up in one of the suburbs
We could
Smile
For real at first
You
Would stay at home
I would get a few more ties
I would trade my diet
For an all-you-can-eat buffet
You would sacrifice
Red-dyed hair for
Lipstick and fingernail polish
Our house
Indecipherable
Our affect
Blunted
Maybe
You can stay where you are
And
I will stay where I am
Today
Let me ignore the wind
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