Poetry

AFP photo

By

Fee Thomas

Stomach The Truth?

I stood in front of her like a chivalrous buffoon

Begging for Truths I was certain I could handle

Me and my pride, one in the same

Her mouth began to move

However, my ears could not believe what they heard

Lower and lower

Until the fetal position my body formed

I begged lies to comfort me

My thumb in my mouth

As I begged for my mother

To sing those old nursery songs to me

A child

Believing in fairy tales once again

Some Truths

Are not meant to be told.

Silence

Silence is like running water to my Soul when it is so parched

I am flat on my back reaching for something I will never grasp

It comes much too infrequently these days for me to concentrate in the middle

I know I’m rushing through all of the rest

Silence is like a hot bath on a winter night while my robe is waiting

Everything is on the top shelf and I am much, much too little to get to it

All I can get is nothing that I want

Silence is like a light in a darkened room

I’ll never know the difference

I’m on the other side of the door

With all of this noise.

Love. Her. Any. Way.

She will rock the boat.

Until you are sea sick.

Love her.

Any way.

She will shoot off the flares.

At inappropriate times.

Love her.

Any way.

She will speak her mind.

Without thought of recourse.

Love her.

Any way.

She is guaranteed to make a mess of things.

Is your love only for the nice and neat?

She will make you grow and grow and grow and grow.

In love.

Love her.

With everything.

Fee Thomas

Fee Thomas is a poet and activist from North Minneapolis. She doesn’t call what she does writing, but instead, the loosening of her Spirit. Her favorite thing to do is to sit on the grass with her niece and play the guitar.