Feb 27, 2013

ME


Photo taken by Iacuzzi. The picture is of the heart of a tree..
(Lie on your back and look up at me.)



I
am a complicated tree
the only way to see me is
underneath the soil
which grows into the sky .....
I wonder how thou Tree and Me
became bent in places.....
Which curves into the wind and cuddles life around itself
reaching for a taste of
sunlight.....

We still rise, we will not apologize for anything!

13 comments:

Anonymous said...

Great site…keep up the good work.

alex said...

i dig it

Anonymous said...

this is a really cool poem. i love the idea of the tree taking on its own personality. great work

Erin said...

I like your poem a lot. I'd love to hear more about what brought it about.

Erin said...

I really liked your poem, "Me"...I'd love to know what brought it about.

Not a Good Queer said...

My poems come from my heart and God in which I really do no editing. I know when I have a good poem because it usally has a movement or a flow. I just finished writing a pro se appeal and talked to my advocates who inspire me and tell me that I am awesome. Everybody needs a cheerleader and I have a community of people who inspire me. Thanks for the response.

Love Lee

Anonymous said...

In the tradition of Japanese haiku, this poem uses nature as a simple metaphor to express your (humankind's?) dilemma: we are self-aware and so we are constantly looking for ways to usderstand and share our complicated minds and hearts. Beautifully done!

Not a Good Queer said...

Getting to know you has been a wonderful journey...and I see God in all that you do...in your poems and in your every action and daily life. God Bless you Always and REALLY Love the poem!!Cheers!!

Take Care, Mary

Anonymous said...

i really liked it!!!!

Anonymous said...

I truly enjoyed your perspective into the things people do not stop to look at or, question.

Not a Good Queer said...

I am a big ass tree! I laughing so hard I cannot even tell you as the tree is now giving me shade.

Not a Good Queer said...

I wrote this poem when I was hanging out underneath the Hawthorne Bridge. I looked around and saw people making beds on the sidewalk. The scene was horrible which had rats that would come out at night and crawl over people. In this maze of bodies was a tree and it seemed not to belong as it was shaded by the over head highway pass. Like the tree, I was not suppose to be there but yet even in this grotesque place, I took a picture of the tree and pretended I was one with nature.

Anonymous said...

It's a good poem.