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POETRY & Other Non-Fiction

7.27-31.19

People always told me in no uncertain terms:
Anyone that gets to know you 

Will love you

For the rest of their lives. 

Lucky I got to do the same

('Such stars to be born under!'

I sighed to the sliver-moon most nights
and she nodded, 

'Yes, yes.')

It was like standing in sea waves under the sun
and I wanted to tell you all the time:

With a tar-filled mouth 

That mired every step and
envied microphones;

With aching, shaking hands that stumbled across keys, 

and fumbled everything else...

Once upon a time, some boys approached me to
Inspect my necklace and
Everyone said it would go like this when
My spirit recognized you a long time ago,

and said, 

"O' I see you..."

m.g. | "the train stops at the edge of this town, and I think now's a good time to get off"

7.10.19

coming in hot

coming in heathen

coming back to community

scared to smile

scared to speak

black bile and urgency wait in my throat

and they can’t see me like this

calling me family

poetry is confessional

so I confess

I’ve been doing it all on my own and He is not willing 

to let me continue

m.g. | "he wouldn't let me dash my foot against the stones i've been collecting" 

7.4.19

I wish someone would 

                         lie down on top of me 

                          like Elijah the prophet

Oh to be crushed by holy concern!

Such overwhelming heat, a prayer --

Spread their body over mine, flush, so --

A blanket of humanity, acceptance --

A pillow of deep breathing and shhhhhhhh...  

That someone would breathe something... something... something into my entrails

So that I can sneeze until someone blesses me

And feel fully alive again.

m.g. | "somebody please, for the love of God, hold me"

4.24.19

I have been hurt in the name of God.

It was an easy pill to swallow;

Now I cough it up daily.

• • •

He reminded me

This evening

Through my own words

That He Himself has never hurt me.

• • •

I don't want anyone else's Jesus anymore.

I don't want Mom's Jesus.

I don't want Dad's Jesus.

I don't want Lauren Hill's Jesus.

I want Jesus.

• • •

John knows Him.

Kelly knows Him

Steven knows Him.

C.S. Lewis knew Him.

Terrell knows Him.

• • •

Here I hide my angst:

How dare they deal me the cards they did.

How dare they wrench me from my bed.

How dare they strike and scream at me.

I didn't know why then, and now I want men

To pay me back!

Hold Me! I scream.

But there is no person who can heal this,

No matter how kind or how sweet.

I am a Christian.

Therefore I know the answer:

Only Jesus.

• • •

But which one?

I see Him from a distance, dimly, through veils of disapproval, disappointment: 

"How dare you not be like your father!"

Oh, please, don't make me.

Please, oh please, do not let that be the answer again...

I want to be soft and pliable.

I want to be a shelter someday, 

To my husband who will hold me like water,

To my children, who will flourish around me like

Flowers, toddling around my skirts.

But right now...

I am angry.

I am so very angry.

I am not blindfolded any more and I can see plainly where my wounds came from.

This is what it took for my mothers to move.

Naturally, it would be what causes me to launch as well.

I am a woman.

I am a wounded girl.

I am strong and sharp and harsh.

I am using my Voice.

It is hoarse and aggressive.

But girl power will only get me out of here...

What will I find when I am finally alone?

"That's a dangerous place to stay, 

don't stay there long."

I know... I was here before. 2016

                                                  2019 is an echo.

m.g. |"Gris was about the five stages of grief, and i'm only on stage 2"

31.12.18

I'm tired in a way I haven't earned.

I can't play it out of my fingers.

Tried to sing it away with a hearth fire throat:

My voice is getting deep and scratchy.

I'm sad in a way I haven't earned.

First world sad.

Smallest violin sad.

Short-sighted, might need
Glasses someday.
And why not, both
My parents did.

They look at me and see themselves.
They look at me and see themselves.

"Tsk!

"The solutions are plain if you can just
get
High enough over the board
(Bishops are useless away from the center,
Just saying).

"Critical thinking, Brown-Eyes!
Ctrl-alt-delete, Brown-Eyes!

"It's nothing
to get
Upset
about."

m.g.| "i know how to play chess, but moving wisely is a different story."