Kevin’s image of stoning
conjures a bloody carnage
that appeals to my
dark side that tends to deprive
my soul from the goal
to reside in the light and
to delight in the warmth of
kind emotions that
fill the happy commotion
of laughing children
romping on sunny Sunday’s
excursions to parks, beaches
or groves of peaches
ripe for eager hands to pluck
to eat succulent
fruit oozing with flowing juice
down throats and cheeks that coats life
sweetly with messy
smiles and photo files
of parents drooling
with great appreciation
of tasty, nurturing fun
that beckons bodies
to abandon travesties
that make young knees bleed.
Tina, your young child was snagged
when you were tagged as a thing
to bring personal
pleasure measured by his dark,
broken, jagged soul
solely for his refreshment
and negligent of your needs.
[Crystal]
No doubt that trauma’s
clout routs one’s serenity
and we’ve heard the hurt
that alerts humans to shun
events as consequence for
the pain that drains souls
of hope and trust that thrusts us
into dark outlooks
that build playbooks of vengeance
strewn with bloody violence
upon narcissists
believed to be immune from
legalized justice.
But nature causes grievous
consternation equal to
a narcissistic
usurpation of humans’
learned tranquility.
A birth with ambiguous
genitalia creates
deep obfuscation
of parental ecstasy
with injurious
terror at the horror of
not knowing the future play
of this day’s tough choice.
Was I to be a female
or, with a male voice,
rejoice over successful
surgery that pulled me out
of parental doubt
of what I should be without
being free to see
what my young, pubescent heart
would freely want me to be.
Newborn infants coo
and cry but can’t walk or talk.
My parents balked at
rapid decision-making
further debilitating
the autonomy
of my unknown, newly formed
soul thrown into swarmed,
conflicting views, issues and
responsibilities keen
on protecting and
nurturing a new infant
not yet ready to
confront puberty’s glory
and heartaches that make souls strong.
Where we each belong,
sexually, cannot be
grasped visually
or determined by any
other human conviction
seeking to rescind
one’s self-determination.
When will we begin
to understand and apply
our inability
to know completely
with certainty? And forcing
others to comply
to what we certify ain’t
wisdom, but is numb dumbness.
The point to stress is
that nature, itself, creates
distress that will test
fortitude with tornados,
hurricanes, and bad earthquakes
that extrude carnage,
chaos and heartbreak that takes
courage to rummage
through broken, battered, smashed parts,
pieces and fragments of past
security lost.
At the cost of my being
misunderstood, it
would be good to emphasize
a previous assertion
that learning relies
on us to adjust beliefs
based upon what we’ve
discerned from cause-effect chains
that have changed humanity
to be socially
less animalistic with
its chronic, cryptic
doctrine of competition
over cooperation.
Consider a life
not much concerned with learning
than with burning through
pleasures that prompt desires
that require strong effort
to convert cravings
into one’s satisfaction
in spite of the hurt
that disconcerts the pleasant
ramifications of one’s
joyful elation.
There is no blame for what tamed
my parents awful
experience of birthing
an infant with my semblance.
Their celebration
for new life, from sensual,
loving caresses
expresses a hidden truth:
Reality is Being
and Evolution
is Choosing, responsibly
or randomly, one’s
reaction to natural
events commonly crucial
to a good and full
journey through cause-effect chains
that strain the belief
that randomness preordained
evolutionary gains
directing movement
toward intelligent life’s forged
control of Earth’s fate
to dole out actions sanctioned
by desires and wishes
of human kind’s missed
comprehension of rhythms
present in nature
like tidal pools’ ebb and flow
that bestows Earth’s hallowed womb
of wet muck and mud
that floods the world with sun-struck
microorganisms
forming the emblem of life’s
organic effusion of
pungent aroma
of decay and fertile birth
worth every hardship
to equip Earth with living
fragments evolving into
pond-swimming, small cells
that evolved, ultimately,
into free thinking
bipedal, human creatures.
I don’t control the movement
of the galaxy,
but I certainly must see
to my soul’s small goal
to extol passion for thought
and reason tempered by my
feeling for heeding
best choices in responses
to harsh, hurtful acts
that subtract from human lives
wanting to rise above cruel,
animalistic
commands through hostile force
and narcissistic
greed to feed on everything,
void of all remorse of course.
We’re not omniscient
and Nature is not perfect
in its advancement
of reproductive, nascent,
intelligent, bipedal,
reasoning humans
susceptible to errant
execution of
the formation of our
corporeal selves housing
the spiritual
essence demanding always
emancipation
from domination’s employed
enslavement to foreign will.
I chose to be free
by choosing to make my choice
before the stern face
that may erase one’s courage
to firmly embrace knowledge