Patriot

Were I God, I’d think to define, “win”
When creatures, injured, question lover’s sin

“Do hollow smiles somehow qualify?
Or emptiness so plain behind those eyes?”

“A hardened heart, absent a joy-filled beat
Make clear to me he re-mains incomplete”

“Your love, be sure it lingers on his soul
He dreads the days without you he grows old”

“He tallies daily losing you again
Discarded Darling, You were his sole “win””

(America has a birthday coming up.

I’m never one to want to miss a birthday — but how to offer celebratory wishes, given our current state of disunity?

The child of God in me has the utmost hope that Our Nation will heal and become unified. And, the child of God in me sees, too, that what America is holding right now is an over-rated, wrinkly, old flag.

But, Happy Birthday, America.

I love you.

-Lisa Mae

Photo Credit: Lisa Rosier;

American flag flying aboard the USS Lexington when Japan surrendered in 1945; On display at the National Naval Aviation Museum, Alabama)

Sin and God

I see you tucked away, there in the corner of this epic adventure.
A stowaway undermining, under the guise of love and concern.

I come for inspection, to work, and for respite every couple of days and we lock eyes.
With your back to me, and a mirror before you, I watch you watch me plead hello.
There’s a reason you do not respond to my greetings until the awkwardness becomes too thick to ignore me anymore.

You’re stealing and hoarding and leveraging me and what’s mine.

The awesome view from on high.
The space I’ve created to just be.
The aura I emit.
My ample supply of lust and cinnamon breakfast cereal.
My apathy in attending properly to it all.

Until yesterday, when the doorman warned me, so gracefully, you must go.

More precisely that I must say to you.
When you’re here, you’re not yourself, thus this means it’s time.
The Welcome sign at my doorstep you’ve taken far too far, my friend….
It was never meant for you, you know, I see.
Sin and God told me.

Tutelage of Me

Gazing past you

Seeking solace in the wint’ry blue, that I might not be forced to look at you

Teacher
Distractor
Attempted diminisher

Before your tutelage of me, recall
Blank pages you were
Poor and lonely were you

Now, you’ve your green

What I was born with, you have stolen and will die with, you pray
But, we know what we know

As does God

Repentant

On look out
Why, I?

Wanting her, Liberty
Freedom from all the ways I’ve done her wrong

Or forgiveness

Her eyes, corroded-coppery
Bore one capital “L” unto mine skin

“A Mighty Woman,” I was warned

And so I came, tired
And she welcomed me
And I extinguished her, still

Freedom

First, -wait, first- I told her,

Before we may take the obligatory walk,

During which you don a yoke, and then become free,

And I don a wintry coat with tundra boots, and am forced to reflect upon my sin,

First,

I must self-destruct

High Point

I swear the squirrel
Said make no sound
And followed her own advice

Having the choice
Of shade or sun
Opted for lowly and nice

Still she travelled
Efficiently
And got where she hoped to be

I own peanuts
I’ll share with her
Since she shares wisdom with me

Generalized

In the green, green grass

Where we all wish to be

A smiling, warm shoulder

Honest and timeless

The snare of sin

And proper loneliness thereafter

Wait. That’s just me

Untouched

So much talk and so many voices

Weighing down and weighing in

But still unanswered to my mind

How many light years and lifetimes

Given how alike and unlike our hearts

Are you from touching me