observations

for many years
i was unable even to try
to write a cv
as this task made me so sad

i don’t think such feelings are uncommon

read on . . .

observations ii(a)

one day i folded myself into a form – trimmed my edges, or everything they didn’t want – flavoured myself to an unreal specification

then posted this and found they wanted more

which is how i was trapped year after year – commuting myself into a box – trimmed and partial of all they might abhor – unboundaried thinking and being, the poet, oh and the trans bit as well, vital fuel for this engine

of course medicine made all this worse

i knew i was doing it too, had too, and the balance tipped, harder and harder to remedy it

in part it was clear as i was – and so got totally lost, not least as it hid how so many others were doing the same, a bit, some remedying it better, finding others

all my best bits, a whole problematic, thrived elsewhere, i knew, why i fed them, though lean and hungry at home – i even bored everyone, speaking of a person they just could not see, and they might have thought it my bad faith

here’s funny – they noticed and laughed, petted my head, some poked me to see what would happen and could not understand how my mad partiality protected a heart breathing true, almost alone, with its books and a pen, unwanted, folded and crying it knew

A. H / K. H-H (15th January 2020)

thoughts

it is a false power that requires the destruction or inhibition of your power?

but that is the reality of power

and some may inhibit themselves when they see it

perhaps this explains free will – and I’d have to think and study if it relates at all to Old Nick and his hell

is it that we are allowed hell, in this sense, as removed from the divine, if we insist – we certainly do seem to insist a lot

natural growth

i’m reading a Selected Poems of Zbigniew Herbert

he has a poem ‘Sister’ that speaks of becoming her, and also another switch of identity later

now, i’m not even looking at this in any trans point of view either, just a child’s exploration – an understanding Gran in some way too is mentioned

But, what it made me think, from this, then at a huge tangent that grows and melds into many others —

Cairn, 2019: After Reading The Song of Songs

for my real imagined other Their’s the earth, the world, mountain, moon. Their’s not this earth, married in the sun. They are whole, whole, holy. Let us dream their path, poetry. Where now is she, where he. Where are we. What do we have. Squabbling city guards silence, always. Playing games, skimming loads, naming to…