Tag Archives: anger

BeGrateful

There will be times when we yell at the universe with questions it seems to not answer. Our fist shakes, voice trembles, eyes cloud with anger, fear, doubt, or anguish. These times are hard. These times do not easily pass with any amount of gratitude. For in our deepest, darkest places -joy whispers and understanding wavers like a feather on the breeze.

But…

I am here to tell you, joy does exist and the universe gives answers. Just not in the way we always expect. Perhaps it is a butterfly dancing, a child’s smile, tree’s sway, cricket chirping, a woman singing, man laughing… perhaps, gratitude in its smallest and most powerful form is simply acknowledging the language of the world to comfort us in hours of greatest need.

Perhaps.

Carving Board

I am not

your carving board

I. am. not. your carving board!

I am not the place to hold your

hatred when it’s dull edge

needs to feel souls bleed!

no

I am not your carving board!

I am not

your punching bag

I. am. not. your punching bag!

I am not skin holding your

worthlessness when i’s frayed image

needs to feel like it has knuckled teeth

no

I am NOT your punching bag!

I am not

your garbage bin

I. am. not. your GARBAGE BIN!

I am not the bone structure waiting

for the deragatory spit you spew

when language has your fill

no

I am NOT your garbage bin

I am not your sale

I am not your deal

I am not your break up

slide down

lay back and un-feel

while you thrill

I am not your undo

your untrue

your reason to forget

I am not your sin

your stick up fed up

get luck – y dirty

clothes pin

holding up the laundry

you refues to hang out

to dry

neither am I your

false pride

I am not your shadow lying

your peeping eye prying

your dogma flaunting

hatred signing

standing on the corner

mocking mourners

I am not your breaking

nor your entering

nor your black and blue

swinging

no.  nO. NO!

I AM courage

though you strike me

I AM bravery

though you cut

I AM authentic

though you disparage

I AM me

though you think I’m not

.

.

.

so no

I am not your cutting board

Salt in the wound

I grow furious
with the perpetuation
of the negation
of my gender,
through handmedown
stories created to
subject
neglect
find defect
in everything

I am

by hands
un-bled by the moon
nor birthed memory from womb
but have painted every ”
good thing done
in the shadowed
story
of babel’s fruit.

I am

neither weak
nor the cause
of your ill fortune

We, neither male nor female
neither old nor young
rich nor poor
straight nor gay
creed or none,
are the masters of our souls.

Master peace and find peace.  Master self and others will see your truth.

Master hatred and find only hate.