Medication

What a difference having
versus having not
medicine.

Testament

I.
I was born in Louisiana in the twentieth century,
I will die in the twenty-first, Goddess knows where.
I was born to a man and a woman who did not stay together,
but each remarried once or twice; I started with one sister,
gained another, then two brothers, then friends close as siblings
or closer. When I was six I decided I wanted to complete
the highest level of education, and I finished
my doctorate when I was 33. I have been, am,
in love with men and women and people outside
those categories. I have survived abuse, and rape, and more.
I have been homeless, though not houseless, and I have
only seen war from a distance so far. I have no wish to get closer.
I have been writing since I was a child - I wrote my first poem when I was
nine or ten, when a boy told me girls could only write poetry
about flowers and love; I have been drawing, creating art
since I could hold a pencil or crayon, before I can even remember.
I wrote my first story when I was perhaps twelve or thirteen. I have now
published books of poetry and even a novel, and will publish more.
When I die, not all of me will die, for I leave behind uncounted
art and writing, poetry and paintings, stories and songs.
I still want a child, I lack a child, I desire a child -
I will a child into being.

II.
I am a pagan. I believe in not one god but many,
I believe in all gods, demigods, minor lords and ladies, great deities
and small. I am polytheist, pantheist, panentheist. I worship the Goddess.
I was not always so, being raised a monotheist, flirting with atheism,
and then finally accepting the inevitable revelation of Her.
I am a feminist. I have always been a feminist, even as a child,
though my feminism has grown ever more intersectional as I have
grown ever more aware of the suffering of others. I am left of left,
perhaps more than some, perhaps less than others, but ever struggling
to support those who struggle. I never wanted to be a warrior,
but perhaps that it the true meaning of fighting oppression.
I am queer. I am capable of and have experienced attraction to
many people in many bodies, male, female, and third, fourth, and fifth
genders; I am polyamorous, pansexual, and non-binary; I am not
to be limited to one self, one other, one, I will exceed and overflow.
I cannot be contained, I cannot be held back, I will not be held down.
Not again.

III.
I wish for peace and prosperity, I wish for patience, I wish for quiet;
I wish not for a return to some mythological past where all was well,
for such a time never seems to have existed,
not for women, not for anyone non-white, not for the poor,
not for those of us with disabilities,
but I wish for an approach to a future full of light,
of love, of liberty, of plenty,
a time when no child hungers uncared for, a
time when no person suffers for the difference of their body, a time
when no one is murdered, a time when
no one is starving, a time when no
one is without resources, a time when no one
suffers. This need not be utopia - just the absence of dystopia.

IV.
I have selfish hopes for myself.
I cannot reveal them to you.

V.
I must learn to love my fate,
my present, past, and future.
It is only through radical acceptance
that any of life, world, pain, will ever become tolerable.
You cannot fix something by ignoring it -
it will only get worse.
I will the same thing for myself,
and for everyone.

Women's Work

Whether it is to cook and clean,
Dodging the hate of men vile, mean,
Burying dead or growing green -
Women's work never ends.

We try to fight for what is true,
Make better the world gone askew,
With kindness we hope to imbue,
Women's work never ends.

Senators and stars we call out,
Put an end to the lies they spout,
On their authority cast doubt,
Women's work never ends.

Include all women, femmes, others,
Extend beyond simply mothers,
To teach all friends, neighbors, lovers,
Women's work never ends.

Harvest Time Has Come Again, Bringing Fruits

The berries hang ripe on bushes and

grasses, the trees let down their nuts

and leaves change colors, falling

down to the cooling earth

with alacrity

as winter comes

creeping in

slowly

soon.

Seeking

Forever I seem to be seeking,
holding my voice and never speaking
of thoughts through my mind ever streaking,
though through my fingers they are leaking,
and through my neurons tend to be creaking.
Nonetheless I endure critiquing,
as if all wish me to be tweaking
and at future self I am peeking -
though 'tis hard to see through the shrieking
that my flaws all need careful sleeking.
My suspicion tends to be sneaking
that love and friends be only ekeing
by minimally, my misspeaking
responsible for them all freaking
out at the havoc I am wreaking.
When my madness is at height peaking
and senses of injury piquing,
heat and cold through my brain are squeaking,
insanity like odor reeking,
this is when comfort I am seeking.

Drizzling

slow precipitation
on a cold, wet morning
falling down
without regret
pregnant with purpose

drenching all
with thorough saturation
a feeling of fullness
falling down
into all crevices

when what was dry
now refills with moisture
to flourish once again
in a soft, gentle deluge
remnants of a harsher storm

now left are only waves of thunder
bringing wind and rain with
decreasing power
falling down
from the drizzling sky