Where Is My Red

Where is my red?

I am wounded and I have lost my color
When did life leave me?
Why did red turn to grey?
I found red once
Stray, lost in wintery innocence
I was surprised
And I wanted to hide-
From red, or from myself
I am unsure
Sometimes I see this life-color
And it challenges me to be free
I think I will try
To remember
Where I last saw her
With smiles and love and beauty
A heart full of red
A world full of color

I Am From...

I am from clothespins, Tide, and hot summer breezes.

I am from the big curve at the 11 mile mark and the circle driveway I used to park in.

I am from dreaded poison ivy and pesky mosquitoes,

And eagerly anticipated dogwood trees.

I am from Turkey at Thanksgiving and Pizza at Christmas,

From the expected and the unexpected.

I am from freckled cheeks and arms, almond-shaped brown eyes,  

And pale skin that burns.

I am from kamistybeth

And Elmores and Ballews.

I am from hard - sometimes sweet - martyrdom

And smiles that sometimes hide.

I am from I love you and Don’t be sassy

And This too shall pass...

I am from AG, fire and brimstone, and revivals that didn’t really mean anything.

I am from a city I don’t remember and a city I abscond, and a city with new roots.

I am from home-grown corn, fried green tomatoes,

And the summer Dad said Merry Christmas in July with presents of garden hoes.

I am from the picture wall of baby photos, school portraits, and unknown faces from long before,

And from the top shelf in the walk-in closet with all its secrets:

Untouched family albums, clipped-out newspapers, and old half-forgotten letters.

I am from hurts and hugs and half-truths and secrets -

Each being discovered one at a time,

Like finding southern country treasure,

Or an un-seen bee,

Hovering over a glass of sweet iced tea.

Questions

I asked him questions about God

Questions that could not be answered

My questions required faith

Though I seemed to have none

I wanted to know why the world was hurt

Why I was hurt

I told him I didn’t understand

I told him I didn’t like his parables

I even said I wish we were puppets

And it is true – I do

But there was no fire

And no rain

And there were no answers

A Touch of Melancholy

My desire speaks to me

But at a distance, like the moon

I try to find out about myself

From everyone but myself

I feel the spaces are dark, unknown

I think I am scared, scared to want

Scared more, still, to succeed

I look for reassurance 

Soft and sweet-scented like the wind

One day I will know

One day I will see

But tonight, tonight is for dreaming

A poem about me...

I have always been
one of the Unfortunate
One who understands
I was part owner and part slave
to the plantation of dreams in my heart
my dissatisfaction was a balm for my wounds
to teach me a lesson
I recognize disturbing behavior but
I belong to the reorganization crew
I like to stand alone, against Time--
Against the only Force strong enough
to knock me down--The Wind
That same wind which would carry
a strand of my hair
to offer a blessing to
the little rat's nest
Likewise, such is that of me
Should a single tear fall
thousands would find shelter in it
An Unfortunate
Grateful despite myself
But I cannot speak to the Raised Voice
the way It speaks to me
I cannot move mountains
nor my own faith
Yet I embrace these concepts--
these acknowledgments--
into my being
for they are me as well
I teach them and they respond well
I learn that I grow
I am passionate
my touch forbidden
due to self restrain and a love
for self justification
I cannot comprehend all that is in me
Cannot express all that I am
I can only be beautiful
and Unfortunate
Tempered by Truth
I sing a language few dream of
I am my own sun
and my own moon
But I would be arrogant
to include the Universe
Still, I am quiet
A foreshadow of the ripples in the pond
I am shadow, a glance, a peace so tranquil
It is lonely
I am a memory
A joy so desperate
Only a wall without a door
can stop me
Most of all
I am a succession of queens
bold and conquering
while martyrs and laughter live in my heart
I am a perception
a reflection
a fear
I am tomorrow
and while I never was Today
I am the connection
a thin line
to a meaningful
"some things but not everythings:
and I am an Unfortunate
Such knowledge is truly
No power at all...