Sunday, March 20, 2011



"Notes on a Third Meditation"
OR
"Good Enough for Seconds"

from 6 October, 2010

You can't tell me when to laugh.
Or, You Can --- But I can't listen.
I can't listen, because I've heard it too many times before; 
WE'VE heard it too many times before --- 
We, the human race, that is. 
"Hold it in, Keep it back, Shut it off, close the door.
"Keep quiet, Chew with your mouth closed, 
That should be done in the dark, You watch that tongue, young lady.
"Careful how you speak, He IS your father, This IS a church, There ARE people listening."
I've been told to be quiet one too many times.
I've been told my voice is too loud just often enough.
And now, I'm an adult. 
And I get to choose.
And I choose Volume, I choose Intensity,
I choose the Power of Speech,
I choose Resistance, I choose Life.
I choose to use my Words; 
I choose to use my Voice.
I want to scream in a church.
And I want to sing, but also scream, 
Or do something in between the two.
I want to make noise.
I want to shout my ideas, 
Stupid as they may be, 
From a rooftop on an autumn day, 
And I want to hear your response, 
Whistling back through the breeze in the trees.
I want to dance.
I want to dance naked.
I want to dance naked in an empty swimming pool to 
Techno-punk-rock music that only I can hear in my head.
But more than that,
More than ALL of that:
I want YOU to scream in a church.
I want you to WANT to scream in a church.
I want you to want to scream or sing, or something in between, 
The way you do in the car alone 
On the highway 
Where you know no one can hear you.
Show me. I dare you.
Show me how you dance to your favorite song, 
Naked in your room, 
Right when you get out of the shower 
And you're sure no one else is home. 
You think you can't do it, 
You think it's impossible, 
You think it will hurt, 
But the Secret is: You Can.
The secret is: It's Fun, 
But more than fun: It's Necessary. 
It's important.
It's the only thing keeping Us from Them, 
From the strangling reach of dogma,
From the oppressive tangles of your Father,
From the great silence that has consumed so many.
And Great Silence is Grand, 
Until it's mandated.
Until it's suggested, forcefully,
Til it's pushed upon you like a cock down your throat.
Or something like that.
Silence is Great when it's a choice, 
And it can be Freedom or Chains.
The Lock or the Key.
And here, where I live, 
We don't have God.
Well, of course we do,
But about the only thing we can all agree on 
Is that we don't want to call it that.
What we do have here, is Laughter.
Laughter, and each other, 
And lots of dogs 
And early morning crepes 
And pink fuzzy blankets 
And cheap red wine 
And kisses 
And hugs.
For me, it's enough.
People can live off that, you know.
And for people who will never know all that --- 
People for whom the Silence is NOT a choice, 
For the women who are told their baby is a gift, 
For the Congolese children who are told their government is pure, 
For the teenage girls who are told "everyone cool dresses this way"....
We Speak for you.
We Stand and Live and Fight for you.
We might even Silently Eat, Think, & Pray for you.
And when all that doesn't help,
When it still doesn't set you free....
We'll laugh for you.
We laugh with you.
And we know that we are all part of the same Song.







No comments:

Post a Comment