Most moments in our lives pass unnoticed, without remark or consciousness.
Then, there are those that mean something, or that we choose to mean something,
   that become a placeholder for our lives, to add meaning, understanding, passage
    a demarcation that bestows significance
My daughter graduated, under rainy skies and cool breezes.
The white tents in the grass flapped empty and lonely like a cancelled wedding
We sat in a loud gymnasium rather than in the grass quad surrounded by trees
I was there with a thousand other proud parents;
I circled her name in the program.  I waited for the moment when it was to be called; being    
   slightly afraid I'd miss it
And I whistled and yelled, but I don't think quite enough.  I didn't seem to mark the moment.
It was a moment, and I knew it, expected it, wanted it to be.
   so badly.  
Bittersweet.  I like that word, it explains life so well.
I like the idea of bittersweet and I wanted to have it envelope me that day.
I tried to hold on to it.   Like a good dream that comes too late in the morning and wont be prolonged quite far enough
I wanted to hold on, to understand what it meant.  I knew it meant so much,
   or, at least, I wanted it too.
I held on to understand what this meant to her.
I held on to remember my own graduation and the dream I then only fainty realized I had just experienced in my four years of college
I held on because I know her next steps take her further away.
I held on to feel what she felt in the mixture of joy, relief, sadness, confusion;
   all that goes with parting from friends who alone know the exerience you shared.
I held on to make sense of my life.  Making sense of moments makes them meaningful.  
I want life to be meaningful
I wish I would have written something that evening.  In the full emotion of the day.
I thought about it.
And now, like that dream, it is fading into morning light.  I can't remember all that was, or seemed to be, profound and important as I watched my daughter those two days.  
I want it to mean something enduring, symbolic and permanent.  
I want my life to be important, to reflect a famous quote from someone, to be in granite.  
Not so everyone will know it mattered, just so that I will.

Mommy said if he's mean it's because he likes you.
She said boys are backwards and upside down.
She said boys are young dumb and fullofcum.
She said close your eyes when you fall so you don't see how much it's going to hurt.

I still have bruises, she said.

From 20,000 feet, the lines are straight.
the world is in neat patterns
with the white headlights heading in one direction
and the red tail lights, obediently traveling the other

dozens of creeks converge and streams merge
into the river whose meandering still makes sense
and the interstate crosses via white bridges in parallel lines
at a point most efficient to their final destination

From here, cities make sense too
I can spot a school by the football stadium
and the streets laid out in a grid
with an occasional flourish of gated suburbs

the earth is a patchwork
a quilt of work and technology
where dirt road meets gravel
meets asphalt meets concrete
all at ninety degree angles

mathmeticians must have had this vantage point
geometry was made for this
relationships weren't
relationships are messy and this is orderly

I think I like to fly
to make the world feel orderly and organized
for just a while
till I come down and navigate the airport
heading for home
and living with people

the crisp, clean, do-over didn't take long to foul
This is not so new after all
I'm not much different
so why should this be?

And the money's already spent
So that isn't new either
the guilt is  familiar, the blame, harsh
the fool standing in the corner behind the closet door
with the full-length mirror
laughing and crying

Fresh starts have become stale
and pathetic
how many of these do I pretend to get anyway?
I'm "on to" myself and usually I'm the last to know

I guess it came faster this time.
the blemishes, weaknesses, the charade
Better act quick
And find a fresh start.

Atrocities committed
At the dead of night
She runs, feet pounding
Against the pavement
Desperately trying

t
o

f
i
n
d

a

w
a
y

o
u
t

Poor little girl
Darling little girl
She almost made it

Yes, I use violent imagery
Correction: I love using violent imagery
Does that annoy you?
Somehow set you off?

Is it because you wish
That I was a bit more 'normal'
A bit less pronounced, obvious
About who I am?

Are you annoyed because
You wish I'd feel embarrased
Of this part of myself?

Does it **** you off
To see me proudly display
My inner self-
all of it-
Without any of your foolish
Censoring?

Is it perhaps because
I am attempting to accept myself
Whatever I might be, its entirety?

Does it anger you
Because you
You bowed your head
And conformed when
Someone else came
And censored you?

But I
I refuse to do the same
For this is me
And I am not going to
Pick apart and,
Cut out
The bits of me you don't like
The shards
That form the complete picture

I refuse to allow
You to touch them
For this is ME
ME
Not you
Not your domain
**NOT under your control

Because planes look beautiful in the night sky,
Because besides what science has to say, I still believe that I can jump on clouds ,
Because I believe that the night sky is purple not black ,
Because I have thinking glasses and not a thinking cap,
Because I feel cold in the summer breeze and nothing is better than coffee or the rain,
Because rose tinted glasses show me yellow rainbows and orange seas ,
Because the setting sun is a tangerine sweet in my palm ,
Because I breathe to smell and not to survive ,
Because I hate life but I love living ,
Because I am me, not who I should or am expected to be.........