Saturday, January 25, 2014

Poetry Break: Rule Number One


Rule Number One


"I can tell"
he had said
(very drunk, very bold, very true),
"when you want to be with me."

I almost denied it,
and then
(very calm, very clear, very true) -
didn't.

"you"
he whispered in the half light,
"you, you, you."
he accused
(very sweet, very tender, very true)
"You made me break the rules."
I denied it.

Yes,
I want to be with you, share with you.
Yes,
I want you to hold me, warm me.
Yes,
I want to know you, touch you.

And no,
I won't break your fragile, empty rules.

  -- Kara Stewart, 1984



Monday, January 20, 2014

Poetry Break!

In the style of the awesome Maya Angelou, whom I have always admired.


My Ground

You can call me names,
You can trash me down,
You can say my world is wrong and wrapped up in my own point.

You can shoot me down,
You can play me off.

You can do all this
But mister,

I know my ground.
I know my ground.

My ground stands still under me,
My ground is open and strong.
I know my ground.

You can beat around the bush,
You can hem and haw,
You can hide yourself away like Fort Knox under quarantine.

You can spout anger,
You can cry “Foul!”

You can do all this
But mister,

I know my ground.
I know my ground.

My ground communicates,
My ground shares and returns in both good and bad.
I know my ground.

You can accuse me with that finger,
You can shove me in that box,
You can close your ears and heart to what I say.

You can wait for any excuse,
You can paint that whole picture if it makes you feel better.

You can do all this,
But mister,

I know my ground.
I know my ground.

 My ground says it like it is.
My ground is flat out with no games.
I know my ground.

Running through the earth,
Running through me,
My ground steadies and holds.
Heals and grows. 
Breaks
and once again flows.

I know my ground.

Kara Stewart, 2009