Poetic Thought: The Moon

You worship the moon
and do not disparage her
for shadow and light:
am I not the moon
and you the dark sky?
can we not float
in unison and be,
acknowledging
one cannot be without
the other?

::speak peace and love on::

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Culture

People are always talkin about culture,
but I have such a hard time knowing
which culture I fit into.
I have so many
stories
running in my veins
I am not sure
which one counts and
which one is in
vain.
Do I
only pay attention
to the dominant features,
the brown eyes,
the unsuntannable skin,
the dark brown hair infused with red….
what is my culture?
Am I Cherokee?
Am I Irish?
Am I German?
Am I Scot, Pol, or
Eu-ro-pe-an? and
which one will you hate less?
These are the questions
I ask
as a poet,
as an artist,
as a person who wants
to be the kind of person
I would want in my own life…
but sometimes not having a culture or
having too many or
not having my cells fully represent me,
my DNA almost exploding
in treachery
makes me wonder
if I will ever be able to
sort out the stories
so that you will read
past my cover…
and discover…
who I am.

Cuz people are always talking about culture
and I am always on the outside lookin in.