Some say it’s pride
Some feel no pain
Some claim absolutely nothing
while some simply try
Ask the questions
but who knows
when or where
they may be
answered or heard
Take no prisoners
Give what you can
Chance everything
and cry for what’s not there
Step ever forward
even if a step
back is the only way
to go to find
what no one else can
Imagine an awkward puzzle piece
with impossible and inexplicable edges
finally finding another puzzle piece
that mirrors those strange edges
where they can snuggle deep
into each others lines.
It’s as though you could melt them
together and they would resemble
a complete puzzle piece that can find
its place in a larger picture.
Stolen behind curtains
yet I find no sleeves
my arms are bare
the tickle of the cold
threatens to overtake me
but the warmth is still there
Ribcage about to break open
much like a tiny clam
holding something
more precious than ever known
and wanting to show what’s inside —
to show where it’s standing
That perfect moment
when truth and desire combine
to create something
so beautiful, so painful —
when Something so utterly transcendent
happens between you and me
Bodies shaking
In rapid motion
Fluidity in human form
The strong beats
Merengue, cumbia
Hip hop, cha cha
Reggae and salsa
All unique yet alike
So let’s move it
There’s no snow here
The sun’s still bright
Cold penetrates everything
And yet it’s still the same
Small flurries come by
Landing on eyelashes and cheeks
While people rush past buying
too distracted to place any blame
Love and charity abound
Stores open at all hours
Trees decorated all evergreen
All because of the birth of a babe
Lovely flowers
A tender blossom
Alone
The hillside
Forever around
Home
Trickling river
A side stream
Rocky stone
A single crack
Broken
I don’t understand
when Mom says she used to want
to join the circus. The circus
never comes by our town.
I’ve never seen one.
Mom says there’s a lesson
learned by staying put
but I still don’t know
what she’s talking about. She brings this up
whenever I say I want to
wear a dress. No one has ever
taken me to the circus… only photos
come to mind of elephants
standing on two legs, of men
donned in vibrant colors, of lovely ladies
who sparkle in the spotlight, and a mime.
Always a mime.
Unicycles galore, white amidst lions
roars, but tigers scare me
and tents seem unstable.
Why would anyone
want to join the circus?
But I will tell my mom that if
I can sparkle, I will
stay. If not, then I will go
join the circus
like she says.
Two roads diverged in an endless wood.
Golden laid was one, the other strewn with dirt.
She always told me:
Take the high road.
Is gold surely higher than dirt?
The dirt path leads to something I cannot see,
while the gold path beckons me with promise.
To know the unknown, to taste the untasted…
To settle for something not worth settling for.
I look down the gold road.
A feeling of welcome overcomes me
just like a hug from her, filled with loving warmth.
With one step, I begin to walk the path
that takes me away from home.
—
Inspired by Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” (1920)