Writings///After the Internal Flood
by Katerina Edwards
I am no Buddhist monk scaling the troughs of the Himalayas,
Nor am I a Catholic priest strolling Vatican square.
I may never live up to those holy ideals,
I may never be good enough,
Being just like me.
I may bitch and moan,
Kick and scream,
Lie through my teeth,
And seduce you with the
Glimmering in my coquettish eyes.
I am not an angel,
Though I also don’t know what I’m trying to be.
But this straining and
Sure are squeezing the precious
Passionate life out of me.
Might I be judged,
When all is said and done?
May I walk through your pearly gates,
When your kingdom comes?
Fuck, shit, dammit.
I am human, just like all of you.
I eat, I sleep, I fantasize, I weep.
I stink, I sweat, I bleed, I try.
I can even multiply.
Cap me off,
Turn me down.
And you won’t see much of anything
Beyond a frown.
My emotions are my power,
I refuse to let them merely drip from my heart
like a leaky faucet
I want to experience the full force of the cascading blast
in the experience of my life.
What kind of life is it to live
In placid complacency?
I declare a motion away from apathy.
Meditation and stagnation can rhyme if you let it.
Is this this new, new paradigm?