After the Internal Flood (11.24.11)

Writings///After the Internal Flood
by Katerina Edwards

I am no Buddhist monk scaling the troughs of the Himalayas,

Nor am I a Catholic priest strolling Vatican square.

I may never live up to those holy ideals,

I may never be good enough,

Being just like me.

I may bitch and moan,

Kick and scream,

Lie through my teeth,

And seduce you with the

Glimmering in my coquettish eyes.

I am not an angel,

Though I also don’t know what I’m trying to be.

But this straining and

These niceties,

Sure are squeezing the precious

Passionate life out of me.

Might I be judged,

When all is said and done?

May I walk through your pearly gates,

When your kingdom comes?

Fuck, shit, dammit.

I am human, just like all of you.

I eat, I sleep, I fantasize, I weep.

I stink, I sweat, I bleed, I try.

I can even multiply.

Cap me off,

Turn me down.

And you won’t see much of anything

Beyond a frown.

My emotions are my power,

I refuse to let them merely drip from my heart

like a leaky faucet

I want to experience the full force of the cascading blast

in the experience of my life.

What kind of life is it to live

In placid complacency?

I declare a motion away from apathy.

Meditation and stagnation can rhyme if you let it.

Is this this new, new paradigm?













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