Who I Am

A bulleted list of randomness I'm working into a poem:


I am that woman who
carries her pen like a sword
to cut down the monsters
she cannot fight on any other field
who believes in the power
of the well-chosen word
to slay the enemy
with never a drop of blood shed.

I'm the one who drowns in
the blue of his eyes
and welcomes the rush and burn
of that azure even as it destroys me
who is always a Romantic
even though she has to be classified
as a hopeless one

I'm the one who carries
an antique pocket handkerchief
a brand-new Kindle
and prescription migraine medicine
everywhere she goes
like a sack full of religious talismans
to ward off all potential ills

The one who
stands in the bookstore
and chooses the forty-dollar collection
of works by the poet laureates
instead of mircowaveable lunches
for the next two weeks

I'm the one who
isn't afraid to
walk alone in the dark
in Rome
or Bangkok
or Nagoya
or San Jose
but who wishes
in the deepest places of my heart
that she didn't always have to sometimes

The one who hates
willful ignorace
more than any other thing
and truly believes that knowledge
can save the world
can save your soul
if it's the right kind

I'm the one who
gets up in the morning
and puts a bandaid on
wounds that need sutures
puts the mask of Comedy
over the tracks of tears
and goes out onto stage
with all the bells of my cap ajingle
and my motley
hiding the worst of the damage

I'm the one who
can turn away no soul in need
except for myself
Can see beauty in everything
except for the glass in the bathroom
Can forgive almost anything
except my own transgressions

It's a work in progress.  I don't know if I'll do anything with it.  I may just leave it here.  It's still a random collection of thoughts.  I might take a couple of these and develop them or just abandon the whole shebang.