Sitting on purple seats bolted to a purple sea
\nWatching an olive figure against a cement & chalkboard wall.
\nI listen to humorous wisdom
\n to imaginative delights
\nI thought of words I would like to write
\n of words I can say.
\nI thought: thank-you
\n it was more than just a thought \u2014 it was a feeling \u2014
\n it was a huge engulfing powerful wave of truth;
\nI knew I had to thank you
\n in some way
\n to let you know what you have done for me
\n how much you have done for me.
\nSitting on purple seats beside you \u2014 I knew
\nI knew: that you had set me free
\n 26 years of life; of struggle
\n My mother taught me to be free
\n to be what I wanted, she opened doors
\n The world taught me to control
\n to fit in; to keep the door chained
\n 26 years I strived to express myself
\n To free my soul and fit in
\n To be accepted, to strike out
\n To make my mark \u2014 But
\n What if they didn’t like my mark
\n too small, too clich\u00e9, too black, too white
\n What then?
\nSitting on a purple seat in a purple sea staring at wise olive green
\nIt came to me \u2014 I knew \u2014 You had set me free
\n What I write is me \u2014 I like it.
\n What I draw is me \u2014 I made it.
\n What I say is me \u2014 it reflects me.
\n It’s not for you \u2014 although I give it freely
\n It’s not for them \u2014 although I’ll gladly share
\n I do what I do because I want to do.
\n I’ve always wanted to do.
\n I’ve yearned
\n I’ve ached
\n I’ve prayed & begged
\n But I’ve always been afraid
\nSitting on a purple reality staring at olive truthes
\nIt came to me \u2014> I must thank you
\n I must express the inexpressible joy
\n I must tell you the unspeakable truth
\n I have to share with you the unspoken feelings
\nThank you: for setting me free
\n for believing in me
\n for the tender lies, the blinded truthes
\n for the smiles and glows, the caresses and touches
\nBecause of you I am learning myself, discovering myself
\n defining & aligning myself.
\nI set pen to paper \u2014> the first step
\n it matters less about success or failure
\n did Emily worry about rejection; I suppose
\n but see the result.
\n I always wanted to create, to express beauty
\n to share the love & humor in a cold & granite world
\n But I needed approval from that granite
\n I needed blood from that stone
\nThe pain of your music, Beethoven’s genius, Barishnakov,
\nMichelangelo, Allison’s vice: these things made me ache,
\nmade me yearn \u2014> made me crawl down into cold clammy
\n stony damp caves of suffocation darkness and
\n inexorable doubt.
\nYou have set me free, my feet remain in the
\n cool dark mud still, pulling upwards slowly
\n sliding back into the safe coolness
\nBack and Forth
\n I set pen to paper: the elusive, impossible first step.
\n The next rung, the new hurdle, the challenge
\n Still remains.
\n But I face it \u2014 I’ve started
\n Good or bad \u2014 happy or sad
\n it no longer matters \u2014 I’m free
\nI wish to climb that tall forbidden hill
\n to pierce its mist shrouded slopes
\n to emerge triumphant at its summit
\n to see clearly ant to be one
\nI fear this fallacy, I see the contradiction inits success
\n Yet I no longer suffer under the oppressive weight
\n of that fear
\n I no longer labor under that overwhelming angst
\n that paralyzes and leaves you to be sun dried and wind blown
\nYou have set me free
\n How: i can only ask
\n i do not know
\nThank you \u2014 these thoughts slid into my mind, engulfed my reality
\n permeated my truth \u2014 redefined my self view
\nI have always been what I am,
\nNow I am closer to knowing what that is.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n