*****

Recorded Reading (3:07): https://www.dropbox.com/s/bzlc087zxm6azs4/Writ%20Kindly.mp3?dl=0

*****

Writ Kindly

I’m glad I’ve been poor
I’m glad I’ve been stupid,
Glad I’ve been the victim
Of whimsical Cupid

I’m glad I’ve been ugly
Yes, glad I’ve been plain
So I could exper’ience
Other women’s pain

If I’d never “taken
To the cleaners” been,
Never run afoul
Of some ill-tempered queen

Never been lonely,
Never been sad —
What kind of a life
Would I truly have had?

Bet I’d feel entitled
To every good thing
“Superior” virtue
And intellect bring

Nor would I be humble,
I’d hardly be meek,
When I of the blessings
Given me speak

I’d probably reek
Of an ego unswerving
Thinking myself
Somehow much more deserving

Than anyone else this
Entire planet of —
Wouldn’t know how to play
Wouldn’t know how to love

Not one single moment
Feel fully alive —
But surely would know
How the best bargain drive

With my head all full of
Realized percentage
And heart always blocked up
By my own advantage

I’d probably nothing
Be able to see
Would give me a reason
For humility

And if for misfortune
A source I might name,
On its sufferers’ heads
I would heap all the blame

I’d not have discovered,
Have no way to know,
In simmering hatred
How many folk go

Just give them an opening
Give them a chance
And watch them go into
Their mean little dance

Their smirks and eye-rollings
Their looking away
Not quickly enough
So to silently say

You can’t hold a candle
Their excellence to,
For just look at suffering’s
Marks upon you

You’re pale and you’re trembling
Leaning and weak
Expression of pain
And of weariness speak

Of circumstances
They’d rather not know
As in smug entitlement
Ignorant go

As much unconnected
To reality
As any small toddler
Ever may be

Yes, I’m glad I’ve lived through
The underdog’s role —
I have its awarenesses
They make me whole

I’m glad I have suffered
I’m glad I have learned,
Glad have compassion
And empathy earned

When, nearing the end
Of this world’s pain and strife,
I pass in review
My vital young life

From a perspective
At last growing old,
At least I’ll not feel that
I was small or cold —

When we let the angels
Of heart be in charge
Our lives are writ kindly
Writ warm, and writ large

*****

Until removal of the stalker/targeter/vandal/arsonist following her allows her to approach any landlord ~ even for a private parking space ~ and to begin once again to create professional connections and to rebuild her life, this poet presently lives homeless and at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level.

Arts patrons may visit http://www.UgiftABLE.com , using code #72D-31S, or choose to send a personal check to the poet’s ABLE account. It takes about two weeks for the poet to be notified of your patronage.

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