Compliments of a Yearning Mind

After her death, everything was shoved into boxes and left in the attic to be forgotten. Dust covered everything up there. The door to the attic, while rickety and rotting, hadn’t been opened and remained locked. Only termites and mice went through the door and even they were scarcely found. The small round window on the far wall was curtained by an old, moth-eaten sheet. Only the little holes allowed the golden presence of the sun to enter the attic. The makeshift curtain billowed slightly where the window leaked the crisp fall air into the house. Nothing else drifted in the air for the last three years except memories and nostalgia.

I looked down at my hands, quivering as I held the key. The metal was cool against my calloused skin. I could sense the passion that I had caged behind the door. The only thing that kept me on my feet was leaning against the door that separated me from these emotions. After a few unsuccessful tries, the key found place within the lock. Turning the key, I quickly became aware of how much I was teetering on the brink of past and present. This feeling was so black and white, so powerful, that I fell to my knees in tears after I saw all that I had tried to forget. The problem was that I couldn’t help but remember.

I urged myself to the nearest taped box. The tears falling from my eyes swam with the dust that covered it. Eagerness pulled through my body and forced me to slice through the tape with the key I still firmly gripped. I unwillingly dropped the key to the floor and gingerly touched the flaps of the box as if they were parts of her. Suddenly, I felt the impulse to see what was inside, but found myself unable to make resolve. My mind raced with what it could contain. A Pandora of memories, photographs or maybe clothes that still had her scent clinging to the fabric for dear life. I heaved a loud sigh and swallowed back a few tears, trying to buck up and find the courage to let my eyes wander past the corrugation. Trembling fingertips pushed back the flap and I peered down in solid remembrance. My vision became blurry from a mix of tears and lightheaded nausea. I required my eyes to look at the tangible memories strewn within the box.

My reflection mirrored back at me in the glass of the picture frame. I tenderly held the photograph between fingers, careful not to smudge the glass. Blotting my tears with my sleeves, my vision cleared slightly and I found myself lost in her eyes. The photograph was a picture of the two of us at high school graduation. Long before we really knew what life meant, long before we really knew what love meant, long before…all of this. Her smile never changed. Her smile is one thing I’ve never forgotten and I knew it would outlast anything else.

Carefully I placed the frame back in the box and unveiled another. This one sent my hands trembling again. I could feel my body returning to the time and place the picture had been taken. The sun speckled across our faces, bits of the rays hiding behind overhead branches and leaves. A field of baby’s breath was before us, the branches of the willow swayed above us with the refreshing breeze and I could feel the wisps of her bangs against my temple as we captivated ourselves in a passionate kiss. I could see every freckle on her face and feel her slender fingers against my cheek.

My mind was pulled back to the attic because of a sudden noise. The picture frame had slipped from my grasp and landed back on the pile. My knees were to my chest and tears streamed down my face. One of my hands was against my face, as if it was holding hers. The smell of the field and her soft skin had disappeared along with the touch of her hand. I found myself unable to hold back the tears and the silence of the room was replaced by gasping sobs.

I shoved the box away from me and eased myself to my feet, staggering slightly as the blood rushed to my head and specks blurred my vision. I rubbed the heel of my hand against my brow, trying to urge it away. Boxes were stacked in one corner and a large portrait mirror stood in the din along with a few brown grocery bags that were near the window. Standing away from everything else was an old cherry wood desk that I used to still my wavering balance. Finding myself still lightheaded, I placed myself unsteadily into a matching chair that creaked slightly while it took on the burden of my body’s weight. Coughing erupted as the dust choked me, disturbing the sobs.

When I regained composure, I pulled on one of the brass knobs, opening the top drawer of the desk. A spider scurried out from the darkness and I brushed away the spider and cobwebs, revealing the journal she used to write in on late nights full of insomnia. The key was resting beneath it and I dared myself to break into the inner-workings of her mind. The lock and clasp of the journal fell away and the pages were neat and clean beneath the cover. The pen markings were dark and consistent among the pages, her handwriting was definitely recognizable. I opened the journal to a page near the middle and started reading. Her voice resounded in my skull, and a new rush of feelings embraced me.

It has been five days since I’ve felt her presence beside me. Her side of the bed has grown cold and the smell of her hair has left the pillows. At this point I’d give almost anything to have her return so I could wrap my arms around her and finally sleep. The clock only reads a little after 2 in the morning…but I feel like I’ve been awake and waiting for so much longer…

I bit my lip, remembering when this passage was written. I had gone to New York with my family to visit my grandparents for the holidays. My family was never accepting of the way I lived my life and didn’t allow her to join us even though she didn’t have a family with whom to spend that time. I must have returned only a few hours after she had written this. I drove all night from my parent’s house just so I could feel the comfort of my own home. When I had returned I had put my coat on the rack beside the door and I could feel the warmth of the dying fire in the den. She was nursing a mug of hot chocolate, wrapped in her favorite blanket.

Smiling at the memory, I closed the book. The night of my return we had slept until the afternoon and even after awakening, we remained in bed for hours. Alone in the attic I gasped, feeling her tender lips brushing across my neck. Tears made paths down my cheeks from my glassy eyes and fell in droplets on the cover of the journal. Sniffling, I pushed that away just like I had done with the photographs. In a rage of despair I chucked the journal key at the desk, scarring the surface of the wood.

I slowly regrouped and led myself to the window, tearing down the old sheet. The sky outside was blue and a few geese were honking their way south. The pine trees down the street still held their own but the leaves of their neighbors were falling to the ground. The sound of a leaf blower across the street filled the air as I cracked the window open slightly. The cool air that trickled into the attic brought me back to my senses and I turned to face the attic again.

My reflection stared back as I found myself facing the large mirror across the room. I looked a complete wreck. Dust dulled the colors of my clothing and the dark makeup around my eyes bled down my cheeks. My hair was falling from its pony tail messily. I walked slowly towards the mirror, pushing my hair back into the hair tie. She had readied herself in front of it countless times. She was sitting in front of it the first time I confessed my love to her. I pressed my hand up against it as if I could pass through and find her and I sitting there, staring at it from the other end.

A strip of photos holding the two of us hung from the mirror’s edge. They were taken at the nearby mall in one of those photo booths. It was taken after her team won the tournament. We celebrated with ice cream at the mall and couldn’t resist putting a few quarters into the machine. Dirt smudged my face where her hands had been, but it didn’t compare to the dust covering hers, her freckles almost absent. I pulled the photos down from the mirror to get a closer look. Her eyes shone with brilliance and mine couldn’t stray away from hers. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes to keep myself from hyperventilating.

I draped the sheet from the window over the mirror and moved on to the boxes in the corner. I hated myself for forcing my hands to tear open the boxes but I couldn’t stop. Photographs, trinkets and books. The boxes contained everything that reminded me of her. They contained items I had gifted to her upon many birthdays, Christmases and other special occasions. They contained letters in her fluid handwriting and more journals filled with her thoughts. They contained broken things that I didn’t have the heart to dispose. Lastly, they contained things she had given me. A still-sparkling ring from our 5 years, more photographs and hand made cards from when we were in college.

I slipped the ring back onto my finger and kissed the gem. I walked back over to the window and looked down at it as the sun gleamed and reflected light on its many glowing facets. My eyes cut over to the several brown paper bags that were now at my feet. They were filled with her clothing and the top layer of each bag had a layer of dust.

My hands reached into the closest bag and pulled out each article of clothing one by one. Cardigans were near the top followed by a vest and a few hooded sweatshirts. The first ones smelled mostly of must but the further I had gotten into the bag, the more I could smell her hair and the perfume she used to wear. The bottom-most sweatshirt was one of her favorites -- teal with black birds flying up the sleeves. I sat down beside the bag and clutched the sweatshirt to my chest, inhaling to bring her scent to memory.

I was brought back to a time in college when we had been stargazing on the bed of her pick up. She was wearing this exact sweatshirt and we were laying on her favorite blanket. That was the first night I had ever seen a shooting star and it was also the first night we kissed and held each other’s embrace until daylight. We had been friends for years before that but neither one of us could bring ourselves to take the next step in the relationship, afraid of how the other might react. It still wasn’t easy after that and my parents were enraged when they had found out. They were still enraged now.

I slipped the sweatshirt over my head and hugged the fabric to me, feeling her warmth, her embrace and her touch. I rocked back and forth where I sat, tears returning to my eyes as I tried to look past them and out the window to the beautiful day outside.

My friends were surprised to see how well I had overcome her death and started to move on. That tends to happen when one locks it all away in the attic. All the pain and regret.

My attention was brought down to my front yard as the doorbell rang. The car alongside the curb belonged to the woman at the store just down the block that I had been debating asking for dinner. Last week I mustered up the courage and now she was here. But is it too soon? Is three years too soon? When will it be time? The woman’s eyes were completely different, but her smile was the same. Her smile never changed. Her smile is one thing I’ve never forgotten and I knew it would outlast anything else.

Cloak of Simulated Grandeur

The blade chips away at the remainders of what used to hold her fast
Bark falls, dying, to the snow-ridden, frozen land
Like looking glasses of another sort, collected ice dismembers from its needle like home
Hands, protected with leather from her beautiful skin grasp tightly to what is left
A trail of the crystals and their green spines follow closely behind
A reminder of where home really is

The zest of the chilly air is replaced with something different
Something disgustingly comfortable and ridden with flame
What’s left of the needles shudder and shake as their mother is tortured
She is stood tall within the warmth, held fast by piercing knives in her core
Something much more uncomfortable and unsettling than the bark from once before
She then finds herself drowning in a sea of water--as if it would resolve all

Looking glasses of colors and sizes replace the crystals of ice, which now turn to tears
They are illuminated by colorful wonders and beauty
Her head is topped with a mockingly elegant crown of stars and angels
Hidden beneath the gaud, a true beauty dies
But her death will be slow and painful, withering away to a bare shell
She can be clothed in grandeur but her heart will always remain in her roots

How Do I Put My Finger On It?

Isn’t it funny…
No, 
That’s not the word.
Isn’t it…

How do I put my finger on it?

Horrifying.
Outrageous.
Disgusting.
Isn’t it tragic how...

Do I put my finger on it?

A small number of people
Can ruin the idea of safety.
For many,
How do...

I put my finger on it.

There. I’ve said it.
Security stripped from so many.
How can we change this?
How do I?

Put my finger on it.

Where is the change in this world?
Where is this movement forward?
Forward.
Is that not our state’s motto?

Yet…
Look at how we’ve regressed.
How do I put my finger on it?

One Step at a Time

Today was an interesting day, to say the least. Today my campus, UW-Whitewater held a positive rally against hate crimes. We're a really small community and with the two hate crimes that have occurred on campus here in the last year I wasn't really quite sure where our support was. Two years ago when a group of religious hate-preachers arrived on campus, we had the majority of the student body that couldn't wait for them to leave. That same year we held a movie showing that was highly controversial and a panel occurred afterward that featured LGBT students, Christian students and Pagan students. This discussion was facilitated and seemed to have gone well. The last two mentioned events heightened and restored my faith in humanity for the most part. Some of the things I've heard and read about in the last several months completely deteriorates that high that had been growing. Today rekindled that. Students from several different UW schools including Madison, Milwaukee and Waukesha along with Whitewater community members, Whitewater high school students, faculty and staff of UW-Whitewater and a large mass of proud UW-Whitewater students attended a rally in the hopes to stomp out hate crimes.

I have been to rallies in the past, including Washington D.C. and Madison. The energy at these rallies were absolutely powerful, thrilling and inspiring. After today, however, I've come to realize that no energy can match up to the power of local energy. For the majority of the rally I was near the back of the crowd and I was very pleased with the respect and response the crowd gave to the speakers. The second half of the rally was open mic where anyone could go up and say anything. While I was standing in the back of the crowd I considered the many things I could say and the many things that had already been said that needed to be said again. I battled with myself whether I wanted to step up the the challenge of facing a giant crowd of peers and speak with them. Eventually I gathered up the courage and nerves drove my adrenaline to grasp the microphone in a shaking hand. I looked up at the crowd and was nearly speechless... Every face was cheering and most of the attendees near the front were holding signs with powerful slogans and all I had responded with was a simple salutation. Several of my peers erupted into cheering and called my name from within the crowd. Everything I had even slightly prepared completely disappeared from my mind with the complete shock of the impact I've made on my colleagues.

I don't think they'll ever realize the impact they all made on me in the minute or two that I held onto that microphone. Especially not in the first 10 seconds. One of the main goals I have ever had in my life was to make a difference in people's lives whether I know them or not, whether it's announced or not. Just the fact that I hadn't even introduced myself and I had cheers for me coming from every angle of the crowd lightened my heart. I can be that inspiration for people. I can be that familiar face that I wish I had through my high school years. I can be that change.

I am merely one person. Now imagine how the world can change if we can all be those people. If everyone cheered us on when we are nervous or when we stand up for what we believe in. Imagine the world we could live in.

beauty

death is beautiful
all through life we're dying
and yet
look at how

we progress
we bloom
we grow

into something beautiful

The Carousel

Metaphor of life?
Growing up...
Going full circle.
Revolving continuously.
The good times, the blind.
A breathless game.

The Panther

Locked up, pacing and circling
Like a waltz of power but there is so much more
Only sometimes it shows through -- through the silence
The heart can be heard.

Beautiful To Me

Her eyes are so electric
Her smile so soft, gentle, kind
Her body is so perfectly constructed
How is it she cannot see?
My eyes cannot stray
She pulls me in
Like a force inexplicable
Yet she denies it all
Does her reflection betray?
I get tempted and teased
Wanting to run my fingers
Along her beautiful frame
Stopped only by insecurities
What stops me? What stops her?
Does she stand before the mirror?
Does she see her flaws on instant?
Does she realize that it is these
And her abundance of perfections
That makes me want to come close?
What pulls her away?
What entraps her?
What stops her?
What stops me?
Does her reflection betray?
How is it she cannot see?
She’s beautiful to me

Prey

Get out
Just leave
Just pack up and leave
I don’t need your sympathy
I don’t need your help, your guidance
I know who I am
I know what I want

I know what’s good for me

I feel it’s been long enough
Since we’ve parted ways
Yet you’re always there
That breath across my neck
That chill down my spine
Your hawk eyes always on my life

Just leave me be
Can’t you see I’m well enough without you
You stray our thoughts
And persuade our feelings

With you it’s always strings attached
You let us get so close
Our lips nearly touching
Just to tear us apart without sympathy

Your talons press past skin deep
You suffocate me to defeat
How much longer must I live this way?
When will you see
I don’t need your solace

You hover over my heart
Ready to swoop down when you see it seeking
You fake the compassion and the caring
Just to see me cringe
Just to see me fall
So you can pick me apart while I’m down

Who are you to make our decisions
Who are you to tell us we can’t
Who are you to pull us apart
When will you just leave
Just leave
Get out

Om Nom Nom: A Rally of Love

Disclaimer: This is not a poem. Gasp, I know.

Yesterday, July 28, I had the amazing opportunity to attend a march and rally for LGBT marriage equality in Madison, Wisconsin. This event had a different feel to it than the other two marches and several other demonstrations that I’ve taken part in. The other gatherings were more of a shout out to the entire nation. They were a group of second-class citizens professing their longing to be treated as everyone else; yesterday did not seem to be the same case. Four hundred and sixty-six equal marriage supporters assembled in Madison, rallying at Library Mall, marching down State Street and gathering by the Capitol. These passionate members of society came face-to-face with the National Organization for Marriage (NOM)’s “Summer for Marriage Tour 2010: One Man, One Woman.”

The Summer for Marriage Tour plans to stop in 23 cities in 19 states total and has left quite a bit in their wake so far. In Indianapolis, a NOM supporter held a sign stating “The Solution To Gay Marriage,” depicting two nooses (shown to the right). There is also a video floating around the Internet of an equal rights supporter stating that one of NOM’s supporters had given her a fist to the stomach and then simply kept walking. Through the cities that NOM has already traveled, the supporters for NOM continue to twist the words and actions of the same-sex marriage supporters. They have stated that same-sex marriage supporters were attempting to intimidate them by “shaking bottles filled with rocks” and by carrying many rainbow balloons and umbrellas. Also, supporters have been known to bring “vicious dogs” to the rallies (I think they were even on leashes).

Same-sex marriage supporters outnumbered NOM by more than 8 to 1 and were full of energy and passion. This rally seemed different from others to me because the group we were responding to seemed so much more tangible. I would have to say this aspect only heightened the energy of the marchers. Supporters marched with several different signs stating “Fix Marriage, Not Gays,” “My Love is Genderless,” “Gay, Straight, Black, White -- Marriage is a Civil Right,” and “Straight, Not Narrow” among many other slogans. Many signs were hand made, including my “Let Me Have a Family” one, while other supporters carried paper hearts, rainbow flags and a booming voice.

While there were a few things I think our group could have done differently, I would have to say our high attendance, great rally speakers and massive energy should be considered a success with the small amount of planning that had been put behind it. Plus, we had the Raging Grannies!

Double Dare

You think you’re some sweet shit
Top of the heap, head of the game
I’ve got news for you -- I don’t know if you’ve heard:

I’m done believing your lies
You’ve outworn your welcome
Beyond a kind “hello”

Forgive me for being so
Blunt
Hostile
Bitter
But you’ve more than deserved it
You think you’ve done nothing wrong
You think you are who everyone is after

You’ve made too many mistakes for that now
I dare you to tell the truth
I fucking dare you

The truth comes too hard for you
Through clenched teeth
Poison ‘cross your tongue
Lies floating in your breath
I fucking dare you

You’ve burned every bridge now
We’ve seen them crumble to the water
Settling to ash on the raging river’s bed
Miles ‘round the bend
This is how you’ve made more enemies than friend

Make it my fault one more time
Make it her fault as well
It may be a two-way street
But we’ve all come to a dead end

Fruitless Efforts

To whom this may concern

If you can find the time, the mind
The heart to read any further
I’ve been hurting
Just a little bit
Probably nothing to worry about
But I thought you should know
I’m not feeling appreciated
I’m wasted, worn out, tossed to the side
I’ve been striving, driving, dying to let you know
This really does mean something to me
This is really, legitimately who I am
I’m not going to stand to the side
Pretend like it doesn’t matter
Pretend like life is fair

If you can find the time, the mind
The heart to help me out
I would be grateful
I would feel like I matter in your busy life
I’m not the star athlete, the brains or the brawn
I’m not the hometown hero, the straight A’s or the toughest
I’m not the champion, but I try
Wasn’t it you that taught me that?
To give it my all
Wasn’t that the definition of success? To try?
You’ve taught me so many things
But maybe I got this one wrong

If you can find the time, the mind
The heart to see what I’m doing
Measure success in ways you haven’t before
Grasp, comprehend, seize the idea that this is success
It’s not bubble-wrapped, handled with care, tied with a pretty bow
It’s brutal, intense and at times scary
The outcome never known, a fight, a chance
A fighting chance
That’s all I’m asking for
A fighting chance to succeed in your eyes

If you can find the time, the mind
The heart to understand
While I’m on the streets, at the capitol, yelling my cause
You are at home
Wining, dining, enjoying your rights
Could you imagine
A day, an hour, a minute
Without that ring on your finger
Without the feeling of acceptance
Without the idea of your family being safe
Could you imagine?
Could you put your feet into my shoes?
My marginalized shoes,
Worn from the marches, the stands, the running from myself
Would you even make the attempt?

Would you find the time?
Would you have the mind?
Would you have the heart to understand?

Anti-Placid

Demon
With your sunken, swallowed eyes
Eat it up, eat it up
Take me in
Watch me watch
As I fail, stumble, fall
Lick those sallow lips
Cracked with distaste

Angel
With your delineate, defined contour
Flaunt it all, flaunt it all
Take me in
Watch me watch
As I succeed, flourish, thrive
Eyed from head to feet
Jealousy washes over them

Feed this fantasy
Fuck what they say
This is for me, this is me
Skeletal fingers press onward
Searching for so much more
Losing feeling
As they dissipate, disappear, disarm
Leaving me in limbo

Something, Anything

Forgetting what it was like
Longing for it
Missing it
Wishing things were the same as they used to be
Knowing they never will be
Seeing the same face from before
But knowing it’s different now
So close yet so far away
Having what it was you used to
But it’s not the same
Something’s different
Just not the same
Enjoying every second of it
But hating yourself for enjoying it
Things aren’t the same
It’s not what it used to be
No matter how hard you try
It’s time to move on to something better
Something
Anything better

The smile
The embrace
So inviting
So full of shame
Is there something better?
Anything
Will it be the same?
Different
That’s the way it is
Forgetting it
Erasing it from the mind
It’ll never be the same
Never the same
Always different
Something
Anything

For You Tell Me So

I am sick.
I am wrong.
I am a threat.
I am a sinner.
I am immoral.
I am a defect.
I am mutated.
I am a pervert.
I am shameful.
I am abnormal.
I am unnatural.
I am disgusting.
I am distasteful.
I am shameless.
I am destructive.
I am compulsive.
I am sacrilegious.
I am just not right.
I am a delinquent.
I am promiscuous.
I am incompatible.
I am blasphemous.
I am an abomination.

I should be saved.
I should be healed.
I should be converted.
I should commit suicide.
I should be condemned.
I should be hospitalized.
I should be punished by death.

I have a sexual disorder.
I have committed a crime.

I am not what you say I am.
I should not be who you say I should be.
I have not done what you say I have done.
I will not be who you say I should be.
I am who I say I am.

I have an amazing personality.
I have an open heart.
I have an open mind.
I have aspirations.
I have dreams.

I should not have to be afraid.
I should be treated equally.
I should not be oppressed.
I should not have to hide.
I should not be criticized.

I am your daughter.
I am your neighbor.
I am not a criminal.
I am not diseased.
I am not a sinner.
I am your friend.
I am emotional.
I am optimistic.
I am beautiful.
I am amazing.
I am an artist.
I am a fighter.
I am creative.
I am natural.
I am human.
I am honest.
I am caring.
I am loving.
I am sweet.
I am proud.
I am moral.
I am smart.
I am not ill.
I am loyal.
I am gay.