I can open my mouth And say nothing Of consequence And somehow It says everything To those who make Snap assumptions Presumptions Decisions About my life And it's lack Of afflictions. My voice says It is from one place While my body and soul Are from another Entirely different Juxtaposed Diagonally Intersected Across the lines And hiding in A cave or forest Place I perpetually Exist and belong in. It says I have more Of, While I struggle With less than Time and Time And Unspoken Time again. My voice says Cultured like a pearl My soul has been Through the seven Rings of someones' Rougher Tougher Hell. My voice does Not belong to me. I borrowed it From someone Else who lived a different Life, free from strife Who is sitting in Some ivory attic Of an venerable Institution Somewhere utterly Static While I move And drift Across states Of distress and Sorrow, Crossing county Lines in a forever Safe somewhere Far away Tomorrow. I have a cuckoo soul It doesn't dare ask For whom this bell Or that ringtone Tolls. I have a hermit crab Self Throwing a voice From a place I escaped Long ago Echoing seductively Across the winding Ocean, driving People to Painfully Wrong Conclusions. I look in the mirror And see so much Less than. Will I throw myself Upon the transforming Tide I have ridden and I Will ride Until I finally Manage to Outrun What others Think of me. Snap judgement Pocket and Pidgeon Hole Me. Perhaps I will Stop talking Perhaps I will Stop talking Perhaps I Will Stop Talking
Searing, powerful, clever, original, authentic writing. Don’t stop! xx
I wont…but, small caveat, sometimes i have to blow off steam: comments and presumptions about me because of my voice, the only voice I have, really upset me. People want to guess where and why and how. People make assumptions about who and what I am, and the privilege I have, when I have lived an adult and juvenile life full of hardship, torture, abuse, poverty and homelessness. They declare me “NOT AMERICAN” when that is both not how I see myself, I am a patriot, an American, I live here and I love here. Here is my safety. It really makes me want to never open my mouth again.
Assumptions are one thing, judgments based on those assumptions quite something else. I get how frustrating (and undermining) that must be. xxx
..yes…and dangerous. I really need to chill out a bit. I have done way way too much the past few days and am back to square one with the chest pain
A personal verse that has common emotions to many…brilliant write!
I hope you never stop speaking your important truths, my friend! Im sorry I am a little quiet, I have not been at all well.
Painful but beautiful words. You have such talent as a poet and writer, Detroit. Your words stay vividly in my mind and I think of you even though I might not be obviously present. Don’t stop writing – please. Writing is so cathartic and, if it’s not too late to be healed, it can be healing too. Take good care of yourself and your young one. Ellie xx 💗
Dear Ellie, I will never heal. I might one day learn to live with the damage better than I do now, but healing is impossible. I will continue writing, but I really do have to take a few days here and there right now after I ended up in the ER with a suspected heart attack that turned out to be pretty severe costochondritis and high blood pressure.
It is always strange to hear that people enjoy my writing. I don’t write to be read – I tried that and it didn’t work. It only works when I write like no one is watching. I hope at least I can comfort, or educate, or enliven someone’s day, at least get them thinking about the world we live in. I was involved in the Write To Change The World workshop and am continuing my links with the Op Ed Project, hopefully. Let’s see what I can do!