Eighth Day #Will

SAM_0601.JPGFor the twelve days of Christmas I’m going to post a new, freshly written & barely edited, poem each day – all based on prompts from the Unity 12 Powers:

Will

where does my will

my right to choose

start

and the ways I have been

seduced by culturally encoded definitions

take over

do I ever even start to think for myself

when everything

is plunked down in front me

like a meal I didn’t order

but have got to eat

encoded like the bars in a prison cell

when the only crime I committed

is being born

where is choice

in a nation where colour is guilt

where sexuality is approved

where male female are the official roles

self determination is limited by

what is approved of by others

 

cure by label

acceptance by diagnosis

guilt by association

labels that can’t be contested

even when they are self-applied

guilty even when proved innocent

 

I’m told that if I desire men

these are the ones I am to desire

these are the ones not to desire

or

these are the ones out of your league

these are the ones

no one wants to desire

these are the ones

everyone wants

so you should want them too

if you don’t

there is something wrong with you

not with them

you must have low self-esteem

you must be sick in the head

not normal

falling between the cracks of definition

of what queer cultures says you should be

have to be

to have the right to choose

to have the opportunity

to be the chosen one

 

my will tells me

there are worse things

than not being among the chosen many

towel

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