Turning Tables. {poetry}
{source}
I am turning tables,
Twisting twirling tribulations unto rhythm,
Translating meter upon measure
In an effort to become clever,
So that I might move that mountain
Channeling your vision unto the realm
Where your magic and might resides
In waiting,
In whisper,
In daydream
I am breathing as best as can be
Settling and settling,
Finding comfort in the hallways my darkness left for me
How is it that my muscles feel empty?
When was it that my strength ran just out of reach
To stand in witness, seeking out to me?
I arrived frazzled
Frayed, frivolous, funked
Yet, fortuitously
Welcomed home graciously,
My beating heart lying in wait for me
I am turning tables,
Whispering, whistling
Unwinding unto my own skin
Coming upon a new dawn
A new dream.
I have come to sing
Sharing soul songs from my mountainous peaks
Choosing to be,
To walk the path of my most exalted journey.
Do you hear me?
Will you remember the face of the girl who vows to stand as a tree?
I chose release
I will live free without the hinges of doubt upon me,
Not my own
Nor anybody’s,
Not your fears or your naivety
I will use words which create worlds
All the while daring to believe
In my own self
In these two hands
In my pure heart
Because that is who I am
I am not your tragedies,
I am no collective shaming they attempted to program into me,
I am fully
Wholly human, with my heart beating
I am not your victim
Your answer
The truth
Nor your calling
I am no angel
No demon
Nor some woman
Possessed by some meager folly
I am finished with these excessive layers which I have been carrying
Along pathways strewn with the pebbles of our broken hearts.
I have come to gather my bones and resurrect them as art!
And I shall find deliverance
Within the confines of my own heart
I will set her free and sing to her sweetly
Beckoning her beauty before me
Beseeching her to hold me
For I have been harmed and shamed and belittled dastardly.
I have carried your projections
The inability of you to accept my reflections
And my soul has been broken across incalculable moments
I have had to learn
That only I am familiar
Only I am safe
Only I have myself as I learn to manage all this weight
I am a good person,
a daughter of Creation,
a calm in this storm where I chose to stand as a beacon,
a star reborn
Because I chose this
This is for me.
I claim her.
I chose to see my majesty
I am all me
All my messy best
Doing what I can to push back against
These walls which were never my own
I relinquish all of everything
And I stand to show
How you could come to truly love yourself
And gather your own bones.
***
Tarsha Thompson was born in Brunswick, Maine, and currently calls the beautiful state of Colorado home. Though there are days she longs for the ocean, moments wherein she can hear it whispering longingly to her, the mountains will forever hold the keys to her soul. She has been creating poetry since September 12, 2001, and through the years she has begun identifying them as her soul songs, her very own music. Music has always been a huge part of her life, and though the themes have varied drastically throughout their development, she has always been dependent upon music to sustain her overall well-being. She makes her way through life by performing within roles of genuine service, and is presently studying within a university to acquire a degree in creative writing. Poetry is not simply something she does, it is her natural state of being.
***
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