July 2017
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my poetry, my fire and fury, fighting forever


Dayum. Kelly told me I should post a poem, so I went reading through my old work and some of the early stuff was so clumsy I skimmed it really quick, but some of the stuff I wrote from 2001-2003 just blew me away. One poem in particular has much deeper meaning to me now than it did at the time I wrote it... my spirit spoke, and I didn't fully understand then, but I do now. Some are so sharply bitter, some so wildly wanton... some bring up old emotions in such stark clarity -- things I never thought I'd relive. They taste the same, sweetness and fear. And the fierceness, I remember the fierceness, how WILD I was, how I was so ready to bite the world and consume life. How I never ceased with my biting at the sun. How no matter how much pain I felt, no matter how I tried to numb myself, fires burned furiously within me and flared boldly in my art, in my writing, in my very gaze. Living every single fucking day in a world that sought to smash me, beat me, box me in -- how that honed me to diamond sharpness, made my every movement, every breath, every word, completely drenched in meaning and choice. How I was aware that every day I chose to be myself and chose to reject the judgments and the assumptions and the goals that others tried to hang on me like medals, how they tried to teach me pride in conformity and shame in difference. How every single day I was filled with fury from the moment I woke until I fell asleep, FURY at the world for being so wrong and so sure of it's rightness. Forced to live among zombies who didn't even notice as bits of them rotted and fell away under their self-denial... how I felt such a surge of furious pride every time someone looked at me with disdain. How I looked for ways to challenge their mindsets, how I seized my differences and waved them like a flag. How I challenged one group with my dark clothing and anger and challenged another with my love for God. I used to be confused as to why people were intimidated by me -- now looking back, remembering myself, I understand. The blaze in my eyes, the unrestrained screaming of my soul, spoke far louder than my smiles and soft words. Even though I wanted to welcome people into my heart, I also wanted to fight, and only those who also wanted to fight could see my softness.

While you paste on your precious plastic smile
and kneel at the altar of homogeneity,
I cringe and grimace at your helpless posturing
and am recklessly myself.
-- ©Belenen10.31.01

I had to move away from my fury to develop compassion -- but I can feel the fires growing again, I feel my wildness re-awakening. My spirit has learned gentleness, learned to bank the fires, but that is not and will never be my natural state.


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on communication, social justice, intimacy, consent, friendship & other relationships, spirituality, gender, queerness, & dreams. Expect to find curse words, nudity, (occasionally explicit) talk of sex, and angry ranting, but NEVER slurs or sexually violent language. I use TW when I am aware of the need and on request.
Expect to find curse words, nudity, (occasionally explicit) talk of sex, and angry ranting, but NEVER slurs or sexually violent language. I use TW when I am aware of the need and on request.