Privileged Perspective, Etc.

What's that you say? It's Tuesday? *glances over at calander*

link to original here

Oh my, I was supposed to post this morning. I'd planned in my head all sorts of glorious things to write, about outlines and fairy tales and treasure hunts.  Maybe I'd throw in a troll or two.

But that would all take more time than I'm allowing myself this evening. Does it take anyone else out there at least an hour to create a blog post you're somewhat happy with? At least an hour, if not more...bah. It's all worth it, though, right? Right.

Well. Can I appease you this week with some poetry I created a couple years ago, and then let the suspense build all week for next Tuesday's post? It will include all the aforementioned things, and I'll try to add some other sniggly stuff to boot.

Meanwhile, here are some goodies to snack on:

Privileged Perspective

It's like when the lid falls on the ground,

but lands right-side up.

Glory, glory.

It's like when you know you were going ten over,

but the cop lets you off with a warning anyway.

Glory, glory.

It's like when the kid asks you how to make soap,

but you don't know how, cause you've never had to.

Because you're that privileged.

Hallelujah.

And we sing it.

But what do we do with it?

__________________________________________________

Owning Me

This mess is mine.

Yes,

I will claim it.

Scattered.

Chaos.

Noise.

Soil.

I could plant something,

if only I could find a seed.

Not just any seed. That could prove dangerous

in this society.

Layers upon layers

of mess.

Just right now, though,

I could care less.

I've got a bigger picture in mind.

If I've got to swim through shit to get there,

any muck getting stuck on me will be fine.

Big, this confusion is big.

But my picture is bigger.

The hope, alone, gets me through.

Day by day,

eyes up and forward,

slowly wading is how I move.

 __________________________________________________

For Elisha

Who has power over you

my friend?

The little one didn't get it,

and I don't have to guess why:

even though she's smaller than you,

she has more power than you.

She's not like you

and me.

She hasn't had to fight.

Even I don't get it -- not really.

Not like they did.

We are our mothers' daughters.

And we are all fodder

for our daughter's daughters.

I hope they won't need to get it

because they will already have it.

Meanwhile, you and I?

We will fight.

And for all of them, and for ourselves,

we will survive.

Moment of Magic today:

I love this part of the day.