Our Finest Hour

Our finest hour

And, Goddamn it, lift your voice

Shriek to me from out of the grey

It has been six years and six months to the day

Set aside your pen

Unpoison your wellspring

Harmonize with me

End the endless justification of silence

Of the dark

Lived lives trump safe lives

Remember?

A Making

A going has to come, I know
An acquiescence to the shortened days
A refusing to refuse the night

I’ll clothe myself in skin-tone colors
I will stop hearing creation’s groan silenced
I’ll start feeling good, acting great, again

Original Thought Credit: Nina Simone, “Feeling Good”

Beauty to Behold

I give props to the parts of me that suffered through some things

I can still bring my game, despite all transition brings

For, both void and abundance create a most-sacred space

I’m a beauty to behold as I move with mid-life grace

Blur

Fault me — I henceforth forego jitterbugging feet
Assert some bias in my blood which rejects dancehall beat

As time tiktoks, I cling instead to swaying with the strings
Tango, Pan-Hellenic sway, and all such passion brings

Step danced exclamations void of pop-cultural fray
Barefoot, solo, or with friends — come…blur night into day

Light to the Prism

I tend to the green
I look for the prisms
To escape the prison inside

Grey-brown and desolate
Static-creating status symbols
Causing interferences

I’m a leprechaun lass
With treasure to spare
To share, is my true “why”

I daily trek to tend
Intentionally
To the green

Swear Fealty

I did walk
Unknowingly
Into some feud
With a self-appointed lord

Who fought to the edge of reason
Against me
What false fealty, he
Who sought no reason to fight
For me

With then, my One, True Lord
Into some grace
Finally
I did walk