Sentenced

Gender is just another language
We teach our children
To be
Boys or girls

Roles liturgically
Played
Out
Practiced and
Performed
By tender pre-verbal bodies

We are required
Each one of us
To become fluent
Modern day bards
Retelling familiar stories
Of what it takes to be chosen

Leaving those of us born
Beyond their epic tales
To conjure
Unspoken fire
In a distant land

I was an unsolved puzzle
Cryptic incantation

I was a strange dialect
Lost in translation

Poetic fragments
Leftover from dreaming
On the verge of becoming more

And I could have been free

But I was
Sentenced

Found myself
Inserted
Subordinate clause
In the grammar of
Their superficial desire

Neither rejected
Nor recognized
Those of us who were
Ill-defined
Were draped in the silent disregard
Of irrelevance

Swept away
Into the vast emptiness
That lives
At the center of such a
Hollow
Rhetoric of loving

Your interrupted glances
Turning away
Confused
Flooded that tender opening
With shame

We were left to burn
Far from the shoreline
In this lake of fire
Forgotten footnote
To the dance

Now sifting through my memory
I am almost aware
Of what I
Left behind
In search of a larger lexicon
For living

I am
Some
Thing
More
Than the fury of
Illegible handwriting
On a sacred rune

I am a Creature of the Earth
Born of Wind and Fire
Listen for the Sound of me
Drawing near

I will not Burn alone

©2016 Chris Paige. All rights reserved.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s