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 Feb 2014 alan spivey
karin naude
season's come and go
my yin yang remains constant
through rain and sun
through death and life
the compass remains fixed
frozen in place
searching for a horizon whose existence is uncertain
my famine and abundance
once leveled the scale
now my famine is overwhelming
like drowning but not able to die
but forced to relive the process of death repeatedly
plagued by the natural need for love
it cannot be removed, destroyed, ignored or exchanged
left unattended it grows desperate equaling to enslavement
still sea worthy i follow my compass
hoping for the storm to end and the shore to appear
i no longer wish for the treasure just the glow of land

a dream
a wish
a star that dies in the black sky
unknown, lost among the billions and billions
never to be remembered
 Feb 2014 alan spivey
carmen
You know when you meet someone and they fit perfectly into your life and you just want to keep them forever.
There are few of these people like that. That will accept you, that have your sense of humor, that don’t care if you’re having a bad hair day, or year.
They make you smile, laugh, cheer you up when you feel like nothing can.
They accept you unconditionally and are the first to laugh at you when you do something stupid.
And you never appreciate them until they have drifted off into their own lives.

But I want to appreciate them now.
They keep me going when I feel like I can’t anymore.
They are my sanity in the insanity of the world.
People who don’t even know how valuable they are.
 Feb 2014 alan spivey
carmen
this is not intended to mean anything

I just want to clear a little space in my mind
I've been thinking a lot lately about how most of the time I'm living in yesterday, or tomorrow.

but never today.

why is it I have such a hard time living in today?

too much thought, not enough living.
For me, love has always been like sleepwalking. I never remember how I get there but there are always footprints behind me in the snow that appear to be the same size as my own. Somehow I ended up there again, with my face turned upward and the wind kissing it. Whoever compared love to warmth was lying. It is cold. It is the inch between solid ground and frozen lake that you can't see. It is the fog that clings to the tops of trees and softly whispers your name. It is the frost on your window that reminds you how easily things can break. The worst part of falling in love is falling out of love. The worst part of sleepwalking is waking up.
You woke up.
bend your fingers back
enough so the knuckle turns white
a pinch of pain
enough to let you know it's real
look at yourself in a mirror
and stare
for hours
analyzing
tearing apart the image you see
put the pieces in any other pattern
listen to the voices telling you
you're wrong
you're worthless
you won't amount to anything
let them overcome you

i am no martyr
i seek no knight in armor
i torment myself
to reassure myself
that i am not myself
written by me
 Feb 2014 alan spivey
AJ
Stupid white girl.
We are not allowed to do anything.
We're prim and proper, white girls.
We are not allowed to fight back.
Put us in our place, white girls.
We are not allowed real work.
We still want our twenty three cents back.

The child of fair skin and blue eyes.
But with all my female privilege,
Came a nasty stamp on my body.
Like a watermark.
FEMALE.
I have heard that when a woman looks in the mirror, she sees a woman.
But when a man looks in the mirror, he sees a human.

Even with that watermark, our pale skin is used as a canvas.
And everyone else has been handed the tools to color in our curves.
Covering us in blue and black and purple and red.
Redrawing our minds so they cannot process the discrimination,
Painting over our tears so our feelings can be buried,
Manufacturing open legs when you want them,
Closed when you don't.
Erasing the lips we use to speak out,
Erasing the eyes we use to see all of this.

You think just because you held the brush,
Just because you created this monstrosity of a "masterpiece"
You get to claim ownership of this piece of artwork
That you blatantly disregard
Is my BODY.

The "fe" you tack onto "male"
Does not stand for Free Entry.
The "wo" you tack onto "man"
Does not stand for Wipe Out.

Women are barely able hold a pencil.
I was lucky to hold one long enough to draw myself
A conscience, a backbone, legs to stand on, and a mind.
We were only taught how to use the back end of that pencil
To erase our mouth and keep the secrets.
But these days the secrets are keeping themselves.

I will not be put in a glass case
You will not charge admission
To have people come and analyze me.
Buy me.
Give me value.
Categorize me.
Preserve me the way you created.

You are no artists.
You are vandals.
 Feb 2014 alan spivey
karin naude
a stone path
lit by faith
surrounded by black
protected by love
identified by slow adding moments
made to endure time and death
i believed this was my hunting map
now crown less
a peasant wandering
insecure
seeing but not knowing what
lost my will to try
avoid all to protect the heart
my source of life

i believed
i understood the image of love
that i would be able to identify false love
not the bedtime story love
but earnest love
now
i question its possibility of existence
 Feb 2014 alan spivey
carmen
It's time
Is what my jazz teacher yelled over Rupert Holmes singing yes I like pina coladas
and as I stretched my ligaments trying to mold my body into a new shape
in the back of my mind I asked "Am I ready?"

because

I don't feel ready.
I like it here, where I'm safe
no choices
no thoughts
no judgments
no fear
but no matter how numerous the mistakes
I must remember
there's only so many excuses a person can make

so no more excuses

It's time
to contribute to the chaos,
scream at the stars for every false promise,
sing for those who don't have a voice,
be wise when dealing with precarious choice,
grin at the world and give it my faith,
exist as I am,
begin in this breath anew,
free myself from my own expectations,
cherish the individual and the crowd; for they each have worth,
fail and enjoy every moment of it,
laugh because this is it and it is I.

get rid of the plans

I've been tired for too long,
reluctant,
unsure.

It's time
for an existence centered around love
It's time
to accept this life as it is: uniquely mine

I refuse to lose myself again
in the drifting fog that leaves me guessing at what shape I am

It's time
to live.
cp
2014
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