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I wrote a poem when I died...
Another at my birth.
A brand-new sonnet when I cried.
And again when there was mirth.

A song for my confession...
A story for my pain...
A painting for depression...
And nursery rhymes for rain.

My creations live inside my heart.
I keep them there in shame.
Yet you looked around and saw my art,
And smiled all the same.
I had a thought, as I’ll explain,
To go for a walk, out in the rain.
So donned my slicker, boots and hat,
Well prepared for what the day begat.
Having intended to leave and then return
Later.  But doing an abrupt about turn
Just before I left, I thought again,
As to what from my walk, I’d gain?
So without further thought, I delayed
My intention of walking, and stayed
At home.  Now having gone no where,
Thought this a rare happening, to share.
Having the thought, was surely enough,
But as for my reason?  Now that’s tough!
Doubtless I changed my mind before I left,
Thinking I’d have sufficient energy left
To use another day, if once again
I felt like taking a walk in the rain.
But then again, I might simply decide
To stay at home, and not to go outside,
Knowing a walk can be undertaken when
I'm in the right mood to walk out again:
though not when it’s pouring with rain!
Is this sufficient, to possibly explain,
the rationale behind my walk’s delay,
and why I almost went for a walk today?

Rhymer.  May 12th, 2018.
1) - My Life as a Disabled Gay Black Woman

I choose my food
based on personal preference.
I enjoy preparing
and eating it.

I set my home up
in a manner I find agreeable.
I find my partner
rapturous and infuriating
in almost equal measure.

I would lay down my life
for my children
and I fear the world
on their behalf.

I endure
and enjoy
a particular set of experiences
which will never be repeated
but can be broadly understood
by anyone
with a passable degree of empathy.

I speak for no-one
but myself.
I am more involved
with the here and now
than I am
with centuries
of cultural history.

I modify my behaviour
based on the company I am in
and there are aspects of my life
which are no-one's business
but my own.


2) My Life as an Able-Bodied Heterosexual White Man

See above.
 Apr 2018 Marsha Singh
JL
Lone
 Apr 2018 Marsha Singh
JL
I bathe
In the moon-soaked
Ocean of you  
Sewn
Soul to soul

pretend that you are
Sleeping next to me
Breathing next to me
multiplied and added powers
By the gleam of your laugh
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