A Person
I can be one kind of lady, if I so chose.
One with bright red lipstick and open-toed shoes.
One with her hair perfect and a smile on her face.
One with fancy jewellery who only wears dresses and lace.
I can be one kind of gal, if I really want.
Who talks about science and poetry like a savant.
Who pushes up her glasses on her nose.
Who has her face stuck inside a book everywhere she goes.
I can be one kind of dame, no matter what they say.
One who flirts and winks only to ‘sashay’ away.
One who drips with the confidence to drown any room.
One who likes to smile wide enough to consume.
I can be one kind of woman, just because.
I can love who I am and hate what I was.
I can dream in color, walk in black and white.
I can laugh or cry, sleep all day and run all night.
I can be any kind of female, regardless of type.
Love women, love men, love both.
Do everything wrong and nothing right.
Act or be whomever, whenever, wherever.
And hopefully, that will be good enough for all of you.
Because I am what I am. And it’s my right to choose.
Standards
Are difficult
To set. To explain. To justify.
There is selfishness in “I want,”
Callousness in “preferring,”
And even “liking;” a subtle harshness.
But as I am human, and nothing more,
And a maturing one at that,
It is becoming easier to form an opinion on my type.
Generalization is still heavily used.
Height and weight are not precise numbers,
But instead a pleasant set of figures that provide a shape
To fit the other dimensions
Of humor, intellect, and compassion
The hair is often dark and in dreams,
We have fun even without blond strands.
The eyes change the most frequently,
As chocolate suits the gentle looks
But the laughing green is lovely, too.
Forget not the blue of serious conferences
Or the rare gold of reflecting sunsets.
Mouths are for smiling and kissing,
Telling jokes and pouting,
Sipping on fresh lemonade…
They make their deviations from the same basic formula.
Some don’t like that others have such standards.
They believe we should not hold up the physical nature
Of whomever we are interested in
With the more meaningful concepts of personality and behavior.
And yet…
They often intermingle.
In both dreams and reality.
To create a structure that is analyzed with the utmost carefulness
And standards really are important.
Because allowing yourself to be swayed by the knowledge
That a feeling is being expressed,
Rather than considering what you want…
And how you feel
(Or have felt)
Is a dangerous and risky business.
I have a few standards.
If you live up to mine,
I hope to live up to yours.
Light Up and Figure it Out
A flicker in the distance on a horizon already ablaze
With coral-colored clouds and marvelous golden sunrays.
“That’s my fire out there,” the old man prays,
“The one where I can rest for whatever’s left of my days.”
A crash of a teal wave tinged with foamy white seams,
With dolphins breaching and dancing in teams.
“That’s my home out there,” the young girl beams,
“The one where I can swim for an entire lifetime of dreams.”
A lone red flower in a forest of harsh, dark greens
With its petals dripping onto the pine-covered scenes.
“That’s my soul out there,” the hummingbird preens,
“The one where I know what love really means.”
And the rest of us run around in circles and get lost in squares,
Looking for our own fires and homes, and the reason for our strange little lives.
