Thank You Thank you for the toothpaste and no civil war. Thank you for my USA citizenship and rights that I Implore. Thank you for Mexican cannery workers that left children behind. Thank you for my strong legs and my bountiful breasts. Thank you for my dancing feet. Thank you for reincarnation. Thank you for selfless acts of kindness towards me. Thank you for all those years of samba bliss. Thank you for free drum lessons. Thank you for all the jobs I had. Thank you for no job right now. Thank you for the time and space to write. Thank you for the gourmet food prepared for me. Thank you for power that comes from the cosmological enterprise. Free am I to serve and give love. Free am I for I have realized the merciful gratitude key. Free to forgive am I. Free to protect. Free to nurture. Free to love and mature in awareness of all my goings on. Free to be amazing prophetess. Free to live with a king. Free to adore all those who have pushed hate upon my soul. Free to know that it was all for the enlightenment. It was worth it. Free to thank you for the spell you brought upon me so that I may have the heroine’s journey. Free to understand things more. Free to evolve. Free to take naps after I eat. Free to write in my journal sweet. Free to dance in my room. Free to join the parties. Free to use a pencil. Free to use a pen. Free to speak my mind, oh, let’s not pretend. Not completely able to do that in my misbehavior. But I am counting the days and the hours of solitude for that. Free to imbibe? Only sometimes. Free to skip the train for an arranged marriage. Free like a moth. Free to not judge anyone anymore. Free to live like this. Free to accept the universe around me. Free to have courage. Free to embrace. Free to cling. Free to write lonely poems to lonely people with lonely attitudes because it is all about the lonely. Free to be wizard with a crown. Free to dance upside down. Free to escape. Free to contemplate. Free to heal. Free to read. Free to liberate minds. Free does not cost a dime. Freedom is a state of mind. When freedom comes knocking at the door you ask for his address just in case you need to find him again. Free to love all that is holy. Because all of it was for the poem. Every hurt. Every pain. Every injustice. Every gain. Every realization. Every thought. Every taste. Every woman, man, child that I have come across. All of it-for the poem. So, I sing in a crowd and am often misunderstood. I stand alone in this wilderness of freedom. I have captured a breath that won’t let go. I have enamored a Creator that made me my home. I have endeavored to set myself free. I have been agnostic and esoteric all of my life. I have been contemplating death and its plight.’ I have endangered the sweethearts and the poets. I am aghast at my entrepreneurial skills. I am only a temporary solution. I rub shoulders with the big man. I have been accosted and accused of ill doing. I have been enslaved by a small man. I had to pay the price for being born. And, this poem is the receipt. By Jackie Lopez 3/3/2014
Posted on: Tue, 04 Mar 2014 02:36:41 +0000
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