Poetry, Part Sixty-two

With this final poem, my thoughts had evolved to cosmic proportions. The title alone is obviously in line with how I felt back then. I was working multiple jobs just to survive and keep my home. I had no boyfriend. AIDS was now a significant issue.

The power of poetry is in the eye and the mind of the reader. Writing, for me, as I said, was therapy. And I certainly used it and my journals as a writing apprenticeship for the time when I began to transition to writing books.

Revenge

Like Sampson blinded in chains
so he could see,
I imagine me many times
toppling the Academy.

Not with dynamite
nor insurrection,
I would with my own ability
crush it,
to remind of human suffering
and our mortality--
of rights they so permanently wrong.

Someday we exiles will revenge our humility
when we did not fight
but do not forget.


We have six opportunities, so imagine with me...


The worst case makes makes us wait
some billions of years,
as Man both spiritually and physically abandons earth.
Without salvation in our space,
the sun, aged in waiting, now expands.
All monuments are quickly melted and perfected.


A double cure has us await our twin potential...



Pollux: The purity we only imperfectly imagine
spirits us through.
Charitably saving the chapel,
We mutually dismantle our militaries.
Cadets conceived only to perfect Peace
pass through the corridors in joyous procession.
No condemning them in our conversion.

Castor: Man launches his limiting quakes.
Unnatural fire, to devastate,
does not purify, and then sterilizes.
We have the promise to end all war.
All surfaces flash,
when flashing past,
and the last are gone.


Another opportunity, imaginable, but not likely...



We are finally, convincingly,
flattered from space.
Whether coming to conquer or convert us
(as we expect),
they reorganize Man along their lines.
They have us not needing the Academy--
far too small or unnecessary.
Either way,
with relationships forced to change,
we collaborate.


We could pray for Biblical Prophecy...



Justice finally divined on Earth.
Princely light from the heavens illuminates:
the brightness reveals and reminds our souls
of our eternal similarities.
Nature is the wonder--
working purposefully--
planning as we people or contract.
Personalities are our varied infinity,
balancing us as a species.


Our last possibility is how not when...



We are sons and daughters
of women and men.
Each and all of us besieged
since awareness began.
The Academy is but another castle
where walls divide us
and doors deceive.
Freedom dims from fortresses dug in.
So we mine continuously
when you undermine.
Inside and out in our siege,
we speak at forums and at court;
when caught, we conspire to replace where we leave;
To denounce you as traitors we betray.
Whether you tolerate our differences
or do not, we await.


You may anticipate--
as time renews us,
you will lose.

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