All I am
is a gap-filler, a slack picker-upper, the rest of your brain power, and sometimes your brute strength, Gal Friday, your right-hand woman? Those Hollywood screenwriters could not foretell my future (or maybe they did) and planted subliminal inspiration for me to sugar-coat my life until I was ready for Love's complex flavors.
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Decades in this life
And finally the atmosphere becoming lucid. I shrug off the dogma of others, A woman-snake shedding skin. At last I accept reality, Find it sweeter than lies I was raised on. Goodness, we are cruel!
Wrapping violence and hatred around us In vain hope That Death holds the key, Will open the door to peace. We try to escape Blind to the fact Peace has always been with us We have tried to escape ourselves. After doing my chores
Sitting, waiting for you To help me decide Where to go today -- No, not the mall, Nothing in the stores. We have food Enough clothes Enough trinkets and baubles. I am a poor American, Deficient in consumerism. Decide on the park again And perhaps today I will linger after walking, Sit on a bench. Nature's a better program than what's on TV. Wondering what I was doing
Where I was going Thought I was lost Couldn't find the path To the prize I was to keep my eyes on. Woke up this morning And realized The point for me Was to write for liberation rather than publication. Took the back route And wrote myself free -- Maybe some others, too. Grateful to be me. I pause my pen
Waiting for the next infusion Of Information Hoping it might be A download from the stars Rather than family archaeology. I so wanted to do or be -- Great -- And here I am, myself. Yet my spirit is quiet And that is what I'd really hoped. |