ALIGHT
Miriam Magdelene, Mother Maria
Who carries these Marys from legend to life?
Mothers and lovers of gods, I implore you
Slice through the bullshit and let truth alight.
Are you woman? Are you goddess? Are you mystic archetype?
One is shaded by false shame, the other blinded by false light.
Obscuration, obfuscation and fantastical projection
All that pedestalization all but buried you alive.
Miriam Magdelene, Mother Maria
Who carries these Marys from legend to life?
Mothers and lovers of gods, I implore you
Slice through the bullshit and let truth alight.
I was cast as Holy Virgin from the time I was fourteen
Skinny, pale and silent was the part I learned to play.
"Such a perfect mother," all the people coaxed and cooed
And just like Mother Mary’s, my true self was washed away.
Miriam Magdelene, Mother Maria
Who carries these Marys from legend to life?
Mothers and lovers of gods, I implore you
Slice through the bullshit and let truth alight.
I was twenty-three when my soul first met the Other.
"Magdelene," she called herself, and could she be Christ's lover?
"No," the voices of my patriarchal past insisted.
"At best, she was a penitent whore. By GRACE our God has fixed her!"
Miriam Magdelene, Mother Maria
Who carries these Marys from legend to life?
Mothers and lovers of gods, I implore you
Slice through the bullshit and let truth alight.
Despite false dichotomies,
Silence, shame, and hidden agendas,
Something deep inside of me
Felt Her as complex and tender.
Passion, grief, love, longing, fear
Spanned across all space and time.
Body, breath, dance, hair, and tears
Mine were Hers, and Hers were Mine.
Miriam Magdelene, Mother Maria
Who carries these Marys from legend to life?
Mothers and lovers of gods, I implore you,
Slice through the bullshit and let truth alight.
NIGHT WATCH
Life sliced me up and served me raw
So I gathered up my viscera
And I learned to make medicine from my body
For my body.
An angel of the light told me I had
Night vision, and that most would close their
Eyes, and they'd plug their
Ears, some might even
Bury me alive.
Just a handful
Might
Thank me.
I prayed to Lady Darkness and I
Cried to Mother Water and I
Cursed the fucking sun and I
Yearned toward Sister Moon, but
None of them could save me.
They all said, "Hey, we're here for you
But just so you know
We're in pain too."
Every time I see a hopeful
Light in someone's eyes, and I
Hear them fucking say,
"It feels so good to be alive," I
Disappear. They don't see
Pain, but pain sees you:
A porcelain facade
Of cracks and glue.
The angel saw an owl, and the
Owl was my body
A great and feathered beauty, and she
Never could die.
"Tell her she's eternally invincible," they said.
"Tell her," they insisted, for she truly doesn't know.”
What I'd really rather know is this:
How is that good news?
When death comes
And the shattering of my astral body scatters
Shards of me all across the cosmos
What will I have left?
Soul.
PLEASURE'S SORROWS
I'd wake up from a flying dream
Her arms and warmth would greet me
I'd sip warm milk, still half asleep
Then bask in morning light
The box of crayons right by my bed
Would beckon to be opened
I'd lift the lid and feel the swell of
Love for all color in sight
As a child, I desired to be just like Monet
To paint magic that captured the eye
In becoming the beauty I once longed to paint
I am hurting inside all the time
The music underwater like a
Siren pulled me in
She sang right through my body, songs that
Seeped into my skin
I had to hold her magic so I
Asked to learn to dance
I cried through that ballet class
And yet I kept coming back.
As a child, I desired to be just like Monet
To paint magic that captured the eye
In becoming the beauty I once longed to paint
I am hurting inside all the time
Once I dreamt in my darkest hour
I was blooming, a bright sunflower
Defiantly birthed from a crack in the road
Laden with the weight of glory
I awoke in human form and yearned
To be seen for me, and to be heard
Alone on that bridge, where I'd written the words
“Isolated, yet I'm on display"
I'm a child and desire to be just like Monet
To paint magic that captures the eye
In becoming the beauty I still long to paint
I am hurting inside all the time.