Call me queer, call me *******
But is my ****** life really that important to you?
I don't call you ****-cuffin, ***** eater, nor hetero freak
So why must I be insulted for my *** life while you remain unscathed?

Call me ****** all you want,
But let's be honest, my life isn't easy
But I'm still here
My heart still beats
I'm still strong

Call me fairy to your little heart's content
But answer me this, could your heart bare the abuse of every kind  for almost a decade?
Could your "holy" self withstand standing alone in the dark without so much as a friend?
I'm a "sinner" and I've withstood all those horrors and still came out strong

Call me a disgrace, an abomination, a freak
But answer this you pretentious *******,
Who's the one cursing people, condemning, hating, discriminating them for being nothing more than who they are?
That's right, you, not me
So think again, who's your god going to punish?
People who have done nothing wrong but be themselves?
Or the ignorant fools who think they are God and condemn others?

Call me ******, call me queer
I know who I am, and it's someone strong

Call me *******, call me fairy
I'm the one who will survive
Call me all you want,
It won't change who I am

"If some people like your painting, fine.
If some don't, well, there's the door.

Take your work seriously
But don't take yourself seriously

Paint for yourself
Enjoy yourself"

I was watching a show on PBS today
"The Beauty of Oil Painting" with Gary & Kathwren Jenkins

Gary said this and I marveled at how much this echoed the attitude we should cultivate when writing poetry.

.

I dream of the future that brings me to you
The seasons, the hours, the love ever true
The singing and dancing and feel of your skin
That day when my arms holding you will begin

The sound of your voice as it whispers my name
The moon bright and full in the sky once again
The sunrise each morning as day it does start
My head on your chest and the beat of your heart

The rain that does fall every once in a while
The beauty that flows from your wonderful smile
The birds up above in the brightest blue sky
A walk in the park as the day passes by

Living and learning, discovering you
Loving each moment and all that you do
The feel of your kiss oh so tender to me
The wind and the waves that do come from the sea

Your hypnotic eyes and chocolate brown hair
The hint of your scent that I’m desperate to share
Your wonderful hands as they hold on to mine
Oh why can’t it be this way all of the time

This life that I lead just can not be same
Without the expression that comes with your name
I dream of the future that brings me to you
The seasons, the hours, the love ever true

I'm no good at this...
No good at this at all.
I'm not ready,
I never will be.
I wanted independence,
Not neglect.
I feel really, really alone tonight...
Vulnerability at its finest.
Sweet, sweet pain.
Salty, salty tears.
1 year, 178 days sober.
I congratulate myself.
Last night was great,
In the glow of the moonlight,
To the rush of the waves...
The ocean waved at me...
And she smiled.
What a smile she has.
I need to quit,
I never will quit.
With a sigh,
I disappear into myself.
Who knows when I'll come out?
Who knows when I will be okay?
I better be okay, one day...

Hope rarely flies straight;
it flutters and weaves
like a butterfly
in a stiff breeze,
sometimes making headway,
sometimes blown off course,
sometimes interrupted,
but never completely
disappearing;
always present,
always whispering:
maybe.
- mce