Beat’s and rhythms, all those places
All those places in the changing structure
Of the places I’ve been in the steady
heart beat of that steady heart beat
that kept me alive through some of
those suspicious places structured
to drive my baby girl self away
from myself.
They were not my stories
Other people’s stories playing out
in those moving places that left
the structure of things haphazard
aches, Those kind of aches that belonged
to someone else that melted like
glaziers in the pretty blue of a sky
falling, falling beneath the deep.
Other people’s stories drowning
us all in their forever after
They were not my stories
Blame it on the way it was
In circumstances bereft with
hearts that gathered in another
‘way it was’ to a beat and rhythm
at another place under another
roof in another time dragged to
wretch my time, in that place of home
haunted by someone else’s history
My history was yet to be made
What child wins on someone else’s way
to being the self imposed on by other?
In the seething quiet of life hidden
in that failed structured place
of make believe going down the path
of a discarnate truth that gets to
play out all that shit again in some
someday to come in that poorly laid
structured place called home
I am not my history
Tagged: be here now, DAILY POEM, GEEZER GIRL, geezer wisdom, JEANNE ADWANI, JEANNE BEAUCHAMP, LIVING IN THE METAPHOR, POEM FOR THE DAY
