A Woman in Power A Woman in Pieces Preview
The Path We all walk a path, a line separating who we are from who we pretend to be. We split ourselves. A kaleidoscope of desires and intentions, of successes and failures, responsibilities and freedoms. We become a hodge-podge of a billion things. Frankenstein’s womensewn together with seams like crevasses, large and uglyunable to remember the beauty of who we were meant to be. Hold my hand, as we recreate ourselves, from the myriad of pieces we have become. As we reunite self and self, assembling the puzzle, forming a picture of one who is complete and beautiful and strong. The picture of a woman.
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Steps Taken
Poet
Can steps, once taken, be untaken? Or a lessonIunlearned, want to be poet. Words unspoken? Like Sylvia Plath, Ntozake Shange, or Maya Angelou. Like a gift given, To haveorthe ability to express my emotions And then returned repossessed? And describe a world of feelings in the form of colors. Like sights seen and forgotten? A dream dissipated, To speak with a voice Scattered atthat the first touch of morning light? a million women can hear Can what has been done, With a clarity that a million more can understand ever be undone?
And know That across time and space If we were lovers There was once another woman -andWho I do love feltyouas she felt as she hurt, THINGS And all theHurt That have passed between us wept, Who wept as she Exalted, Are steps on a road to the places here we should be -together apart-her hand in every moment Whoor holds Are they steps we would still sentence choose Through every or stanza given the chance to erase Building on a chainthem? into forever Stretching the length of history Billions of women Or have steps given new birth? long and strong. never alone. Made a newAnd person of you I want to share my story -or meIn shades of beauty and pain, Do those steps form a staircase, So that somewhere in the world Forever reaching upward, Growing and shaping, There is a woman Leading us Who to newunderstands levels of understanding? that HER story is shared. Making the step back impossibleThat no matter what has happened Undesirable, even? She is not silent Or forgotten Or unloved.
She is a poet.
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The Death of a Butterfly The death of a butterfly is a silent event. Passing from the world With a gentle flutter, Followed by stillness. Passing into decay And then dust Remembered only by other butterflies Who will pass as quietly from this world, Eventually lost to history -In what seemed to beThe blink of an eye. I will not go from this world As a butterfly in death. With only a few weak flutters And the fleeting memories of those who will forget to recommend me. I will shout. I will roar like a lion. Fierce and Frightening With the majesty of one who knows they have been heard. I will make a joyful noise, Filled with warmth and power. And share it with the world. I will not pass from this world in silence. I am not a butterfly.
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Soar From high on my perch, I look down on you -lowly warm. I watch you squirm along Subsisting on the satisfaction of today’s desires. -however sudden -however fleeting With no concept of the future beyond. I see your landscape spread out before you. -watch you make wrong turn after poor choice. -watch you wander further and further from the path you intended. Confused and frantic -I watch you sizzle in the heat of the sun. I watch you sufferWhen instead of looking down, I should be giving thanks. Because I have wandered. I have made poor choices. I have taken wrong turns. And while my path has not always been Straight Or clear, I have adapted. And so the world has opened up before me. And I recognize that I have all I need -to soar.
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Woman in Pieces All the pieces of me merge and combine To create my ultimate form. A Voltron of meInfinitely more powerful and effective than my divided self. No longer do I suffer From the acceptable psychosis of womanhood. Socially imposed multiple personality disorder. I am one. The Iron Curtain lifted, Separation of church and state has been shattered. RisenFrom beneath the apartheid of the self and soul. No longer a woman in pieces, But a completed picture Of strength, Beauty, And love. I am a Wonder WomanAnd so are you.
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