SHE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED

Call me the fire beneath the waves,
the stillness in the storm

I am the claw of the crow,
the glide of the swallow

Call me Jesus for I love Him,
Call me the Fallen One
for I succumb to stumbling

Call me a flower,
Call me beautiful,
Call me a woman for I cherish my womb,
Call me an abomination
for my balls command

I saw heaven as I gazed upward
while my feet are in hell

I am an abomination,
I am a curse--
They call me poet,
they call me Woman.


Photo: "Woman In the Waves," a painting by Paul Gauguin, taken from www.1st-art-gallery.com

Catapult

I’m an addict,
never could see
when my urges take over
and beat up one of my three
little selves,

High-strung with life’s speedy
Joyrides and
Miscalculations I ask question after question
To your ire
and to my needy
addiction, feeding
And here I thought I was done with
Pointless questioning

Oh how I lose myself too much in the puddle,
and I hate that my spouse and
child settle for my watered-down self on most days.

I miss aimlessness
And hours of un-thinking
And just living.

And so on a catapult I prop my feet
ready to be swung away
to only my Creator knows where –
should be an alright addiction,
free and sweet,
I’ll see you in mid-air.