This is my featured reading at The Center for Inquiry with Just Buffalo Literary Center Cafe. I read two poems, I Am and Eulogy.
I Am
I
am
that
which
cannot be
caged,
tamed,
tried,
understood,
included,
deluded,
or left -
misunderstood.
I am
the bleeding hearts
of artists,
voices of the oppressed
painting alone,
writing alone,
speaking to the masses
standing in galleries
half numb
from having their soul
placed on a
public platter
picked apart
and critiqued.
I am Woman -
Man -
Child -
Mother -
Father -
Brother -
Sister -
I am a lover,
loved,
loving -
I am the volcanic
rumblings
of every tired soul
and every smile
and tear -
I am all creatures
every root and crevice,
all footholds and paths,
the falling leaves
- kamikaze -
every rock and shell,
the waves and oceans,
the bees that buzz
around the new bud,
the hand that guides a sprout
from seed,
the secrets the wind
whispers,
the fierce embrace
of winter,
the warmth upon
your face,
heart,
body,
soul,
and the sweet cool
calming waters
of life -
I am death
wild,
I am
Woman.
Here.
Now.
I am every element,
all emotions,
every fable told
by firelight,
every word
written,
spoken,
uttered,
screamed,
and sighed -
the true Goddess,
the wild soul -
I am that which cannot
be kept
nor set free.
I exist
without logic,
in rational conscious
thought,
in esoteric
holy
nakedness.
I am the rich man
and beggar,
the king and the jester -
I am good
versus
evil
versus
self -
I am a conundrum
unto myself,
a human shell
existing
as pure
ether.
I am heaven
and hell.
I am -
the destroyer
and creator
simultaneous.
© Susan Marie
Eulogy
The wind
howls,
magnificent and shrieking,
like some wild woman,
unabashed and naked.
Her brow wet
with brine,
upturned to the most holy sky,
arms raised
in supplication
to a dying world,
embracing,
all that is.
And she,
cross-legged,
beneath Gods and Goddesses,
hair whipping wind,
eyes brazen,
brown and soft.
Her howling
becomes one with the wind,
distress signals to the raiment,
the ancient raiment
that poets and sages
sat under and above
for millenniums.
A eulogy to the past,
a welcome to the present,
an embrace to the future.
She is here
now,
waiting for you,
to set you free
from chains
you have bound yourself with.
Grab her hand, willing,
loving,
kind,
calm,
pure and desirous.
Show her
how you have released
from your very soul,
all the toxicity
of existence.
She is Earth, dirt,
rocks and stones,
limbs of trees,
mighty oaks and maples,
the birch and elm.
She is the silt of fault lines
holding this globe
together.
She is the mighty maelstrom,
every season,
without apology.
She is you,
me.
Come, come and relish this moment,
even if only once.
Sing of the grace bestowed upon you
for you are born to be supreme,
you are born with the ability to fly,
you are born with the gift to see
with six senses,
seven.
You are powerful in your wildness,
in your pure soul self.
Let it wash upon you
like a sweet cool dream,
and come, come my dear soul.
Do not wait.
No hesitation.
Moments are fleeting.
She is here,
now,
with you,
yet not eternal.
She will share secrets with you,
teach you how to see
with eyes
that have no place
in the land of humankind.
Each blade of grass,
leaves of the trees of her mane,
like a thoroughbred racing, wondrous,
eyes staring, mad.
There is no finish line,
only now, here.
This moment.
Disrobe beneath this day.
Give thanks to the Great Creator,
to Mother Nature.
To the spirits that speak to you
in your dreams.
To the souls that have guided you
to this place,
this patch of Earth,
this precious time.
Bow your head in prayer,
dear soul.
For you are in the presence
of divinity.
© Photo and words Susan Marie
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