Matron Cows and Silly Sows

Had I been born an article of sale clothing…’straight’ off the rack.

A bit long in the sleeve.

Slightly bulky.

Too athletic looking.

Would I make it fit?

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Had I been in mind…as an abused, handed down… ‘good news’ bible.

Splayed on open pages.

Scribbled in ink.

Someone’s ideals of what is right or wrong.

Could I be found lingering in the book of Ruth?

Would I see this pastoral woman as, someone strong?

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I trust that…

in the undertaking of my travels…

I would want to exist as the, matron cow.

Or, perhaps, the silly sow.

Standing still in time…stoic and stubborn.

I would dawdle, four-legged, with peace in mind.

Chewing away all need for titles.

And, spitting out the rules they define.

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Holy Insecurity

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No certainty.

To the reliance of reflection I see.

Thus, what of the transformation into an iron cross of discovery?

Un-anchored spirits from forbidden doorways.

Youthful were the vestiges I held to the light.

Now they are only recollections of disappointed blasphemy.

How true these reflections in me?

How honest can the hues be?

Could not account for the strolls around…

the Good News Bible.

Though,

Revelations dripped prosperity.

However grappling were the allegations on the pages in between.

The blotted ink left simple transference of someone else’s insecurity.

What honest there had been left to reflect upon?

Holy insecurity.

 

 

Revolving ’round the Rainbow

Sing Out
You can make it all true.
And you can make it undo

Back before Rainbows were known to exist other than in the light of day…after a fresh and linen covered spring rain, I had thought something amiss.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like the God I had been shown. It had been more of a fear based and obscure presence that never released its grip on me.
Hatred, hangings, crosses to bare and/or bear and sins over running my beer mug! How distant the feelings I had been? No further away than the ache within my heart.
‘Was I bad? Had there been a mistake? Will this strange and unusual creature of habit…Me, change her ever-present freak stripes?’
Did I know gay? Brevity, maybe? Men with odd tastes for polyester and spangles. Or, perhaps, the ‘gay’ twenties where the roar came from the pits of rooms locked behind store fronts with no names.
Somewhere between the playing out of roles: Who gets to be Sabrina and who gets to be Farrah/Jill? Somehow linked from one end of the Good News Bible and my passion for watering down my ache. Between the sheets and not discrete attempts at playing ‘straight’…it all came out wrong like a bad love song.
I cried, of course, I shed tears…I do to this day.
How is it my parent’s child cannot be straight? What a disappointment, once again, in the normal kids rule class?
It is a shame my grandfather disowned me with words. It is an abomination to mankind and a sore on the ass of the world, he would have most likely whispered loudly to his uniformed friends.
The train that took me so many times before into a land of semi comfort and acceptance left South station and never looked for me again.
How difficult it must be not to know where to begin your history…when your past has been clouded by bias and poor judgement by the powers that be.
In the end, I sat a six-pack down on an oak table in the heart of This Land is Your Land, New Hampshire. I shook and wondered what will become of me? I waited until she arrived. She held my first hand in life and most likely, I will hold her hand as she departs for greener pastures.
‘I have something you need to know…I can’t hide it anymore. It’s just how it is!’
No response from her or a language of body movements would have helped. Yet, those too seemed to have left the room.
‘I am GAY! I’ve tried to not be…but it just ain’t working.’
These were the rhetorical words that still carry the burden of my nonconformist ways today. An ark in which I feel safe enough to unveil even the darkest of truths.

LIfe...making a difference everyday
LIfe…making a difference everyday

“Oh, is that it? I was waiting for you to figure that out! As long as you’re happy!”
We never really understand the understanding statements we make until the clouds lift and we see the light. My mother, bless her sainted heart, most likely felt she didn’t say enough.
My mother had said with few words what the world should be learning in school everyday:

…as long as you’re happy…

Really isn’t that all that matters when it comes to matters of the heart?

Well
if you want to sing out
sing out.
And if you want to be free
be free.
‘Cause there’s a million things to be.
You know that there are.
And if you want to live high
live high.
And if you want to live low
live low.
‘Cause there’s a million ways to go.
You know that there are.

You can do what you want.
The opportunity’s on.
And if you find a new way

you can do it today.
You can make it all true.
And you can make it undo
you see.
Ah
it’s easy.
Ah
you only need to know.

Well
if you want to say yes
say yes.
And if you want to say no
say no.
Cause there’s a million ways to go.
You know that there are.
And if you want to be me
be me.
And if you want to be you
be you.
Cause thee’s a million things to do.
You know that there are.

CAT STEVENS – IF YOU WANT TO SING OUT LYRICS