"A Changing State," A Poetry Post

I am in a changing state.

I am even now coalescing into

some form I cannot yet

identify.

I am high up above myself

looking down into a

confused mess of

recommendations and

expectations and

requirements.

I do not see myself as an

independent entity; I

feel so

dependent upon my

parents and my

siblings and my

friends and the

lyrics on my IPod and the

images on my TV and the

things I overhear in private conversations that I

cannot comprehend how I might

ever be something

that is just me.

I cannot understand the

qualities that I possess. I say that

I am burning in the flames of my own change.

You say that I am supposed to use this fire to

clear down the congested and outdated trees in my

social forest and to make room for a

beautiful new crop but I can hardly

walk out my purpose without

singeing every person and

every thing I touch.

Don’t be surprised that I am

screaming at you when I am

screaming within me;

teach me how to be a

transformational firestorm

without consuming everything

in my path!

I cannot help that I am

tarnished with the traditional opinions of

people I have known my

whole life.

I need you to be the

turpentine of my time.

I need a good scrub and buff.

You cannot be afraid of my tough stuff because

I am made to be a beautiful jewel but

I have been dropped into a

deep sea of mediocrity.

Barnacles of bitterness and discouragement have

attached themselves to me and

I don’t know anything about

how to shake off these ugly creatures.

I need you to

dive down into my

cognitive darkness and

scrape away these parasites.

I might seem to be wondering off into

dark places, and I may be because

my compass is not finding its

magnetic north;

I still think that

north is something I

have to see first.

I don’t understand the

hidden spirituality of purpose,

how forces in my now and

in my future work together to

magnetize my next step.

I am turning and

turning and

turning.

I understand that at some point

I will bump up against a

point of friction that will

slow me down and allow me to see myself but

all I can see now is a

reference point that seems to be moving

farther away every time I get close to it.

I am not at my expected end!

Please do not treat me as if I can

reason out your whys and hows!

I have not seen the horrifying states of limbo that

you have lived out.

I believe in 25-minute processes and

2-minute endings.

Haven’t you seen any reality television?

I believe in commercial breaks.

It is hard for me to perceive that

life may go on without me if I don’t

get up and move right away.

I’m not so sure that “good enough”

IS the opposite of okay.

What you say is just as unreliable as

all my circumstances.

People tell me that good minds die here and

great minds fly here and

dreams are denied here.

Why should I trust you when you say that

I’ve got options?

Aren’t you here too?

What have you been through?

I am in a state of change; I am

misnamed; I am enraged; I am

caged. I am too hard; I am too soft; I am

lost. I am worn down; I am caked up; I am

rough.

What are you gonna do to help me?

What are you gonna do to help me?

What are you willing to do

to help me?

-T. D. James-Moss