I feel the bumps on my skin echo underneath my fingertips
I try to resist the urge to peel my face off
To pour blood onto the floor as I become who I believe
But at what cost?
To become an unknown version of myself seems beautiful at times, concerning at most
When I am sober, alone with my thoughts, I thank my skin for existing
With its bumps, bruises, unevenness, and lines
It was made for me
Stretched for my hips, stretched for my being, reminding me that I take up space.
And space is okay.
And it is all around us.
And it is infinite.

Shimmers molten road
Still air squats, beads, on my brow
Summer road trip woes.

Seat turns to quick sand
Thighs stuck fast can move no more
Summer road trip woes.

Each breath sighs, heavy
Vapoured water chokes the air
Summer road trip woes.

No soul seen for miles
Gauge collapses on empty
Woeful road trip end.

ice is in the air
it fills all space
and leaves
   nothing
untouched

the noncomittal voice
of an unfamiliar priest
bounces off
the hard air
   unheard

dark clad people
  white faces
frozen to the cemetery ground

someone
who has not yet
fully understood
softly
   defiantly
places a flaming bouqet
of red roses

my gaze
cuts through
the strange flowers
to the time
that was

Quiet are the fields
with ghosts
from pennants past
the aces
and cutters
set idly away
from the maple
spread fall
soft sounds
of Sunday
(chilling on the boneyard)
telling tales of
validated stars
and wheel house legends
the rally cap sluggers
with mahogany eyes

Mustard colors
in floating mists
give a bite
to sublime skies
scattered walkers
trip to the hole
their spit buckets
and spigots
pressed into
pure life form
bikers and loners
and curious coffee goers
mill about the horn
whispering numbers
from an old
Keelman heaving

Alley lookers
and Mendoza lines
screachers, bleachers
from years gone by
dancing fingers
and cracks at the bat
moonshots
(from the big time Timmy Jim)
the 9th inning gunner
with sinker
and slider
and imposing
brush back *****
the game day citizen
and dugout warrior
who lit it up
in Rockwell fame

As surely as the sea,
Will forever kiss the sand
And the sun,
Chases the moon
Indefinitely,
As the mountains stand
I'll forever hold your memory,
Though never,
Your hand

You will always be my little girl
Though now a woman in your own right,
And as you step out into the world
I pray to God you will be alright.
Though in cotton wool I would wrap you
To keep you from all harm if I could,
I understand that if I were to
That I would do you more harm than good.
Over the past few years you have grown
Into a wonderful young lady;
The strength of character you have shown
Tells me I have no need to worry.
So go girl! Do what you have to do,
There's a great big world waiting for you!
But remember, whatever you do,
That I shall always be here for you.
Love Dad x

They walked into the crowded room;
Spotlight hot; it made them sweat,
The crowd was cautious, curious,
Yet they had no regret.
For they were open, honest,
Wore their feelings on their sleeve,
And while the world was watching,
Professed what they believe.

We are equal. We are worthy,
Of your tolerance and love,
There is but One should judge us,
They are in Heaven, up above.
Should a God that loves us equally,
Be considered gender queer?
Can future generations
Be rid of prejudice and fear?

We only ask you give us,
A chance, an equal shot.
You will find that we will give you
Everything we’ve got.
We will make a difference in this world,
We will find our place among the rest
Some strive for mediocrity,
We will strive to be the best!
Phil Lindsey 1/9/17

darling, didn't you know I'd turn you into poetry?