change

Winds of Change

poetry

There is a place between where I was—
Geographically straddling home (and where home will be)
Intellectually flailing at what I know (petrified of what I don’t)
Emotionally committed this cause (a compelling enigma)
Romantically ready, so ready (so far from prepared—but ready)
Spiritually tender and ready to be transformed (more than I can imagine)
And where I am going—

Like a flag buffeting in the wind
Declaring an identity which has been attached to another foundation
For as long as memory recalls

Flings loose

Willingly—terrified.
A movement begins.
This house grows wheels, bears the weather—no apologies, howling.
Purpose served, shingles tear up, await replacement.
A new roof—trappings intact.
The old precedes, but now concedes.
One is silver, the other gold.

The summer storms usurps a leaf from his stagnant perch
And for a moment—though turbulent and unknowing—
Deposits him to transformation of life yet untold.
Greatest mystery with only the promise of a seed intact.

Change and I have never seemed to get along,
But if it’s like they say and, “opposites attract”—
Then I suppose I’m right where I should be.

change

poetry

i’d like to imagine i’m
politically progressive, yet
yesterday i changed my own oil
and became a man.
I slid beneath the car
as if entering some secret
mancave, the license plate
transforming into a NO GIRLS sign
I peered into the mechanical intricacies, nodding
in acknowledgment of the innate knowledge
embedded in My Y-chromosome
and I set to work
with the solemnity of a samurai
some time later I emerged
cleaning My hands with the greasiest of rags
these oil stains becoming the lifeblood of the vanquished
evidence of excess testosterone.
now, Come, women:
bask in my musky glory.

when the fairy dust has settled

poetry

i marked the
inauguration with
feelings of trepidation

let’s remember that
“change” is not a magic
word made of sparkles
and dust, rather one
spelled with sleepless
nights, burning words,
and blood

let’s remember that
the “Dream” is not
a finish line to be
crossed, rather a reality
we must construct
first in our minds and in
our lives

and let’s remember that
our leaders cannot be God
sweeping down from the clouds
(or the White House) to pluck
you from your own troubles.