Joy (repost)

the good days
Freude,
are those days that
schoener Goetterfunken
in spite of the noise
Tochter aus Elysium,
the naggings
wir betreten
the sagging weight
feuertrunken,
of worry, responsibility
Himmlische,
the ignorance
dein Heiligtum.
and uncarefulness
deine Zauber
of others
binden wieder
the sometimes blatant
was der Mode
disregard, disrepair
Schwert geteilt
of how the world around
Bettler werden
chooses to conduct itself
Fuerstenbrueder

the good days
wo dein sanfter
are those days
Fluegel weilt
I can’t hear any of you
Freude!
for the Beethoven
Freude!
blasting joyously unrestrained
Freude!
in my head

© Sarah Whiteley
originally posted 2/17/2009
Thanks to a dear friend for reminding me just how much I love to blast the Beethoven!

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Hair.

I. Don’t. Cut. My. Hair.

-well, except for maybe
a little trim now and then,
but not so’s you’d notice-

It’s been two decades
since I s(h)aved it all
and (s)hoved it all
in that /hateful/ boy’s face
two days before the prom
and (it along with) my sharp-
boned shoulders (s)ticking above
that dress /bluest blue for
truest true/ made me look like
love’s refugee escaped
to the other side of the fence.

Mother took the picture anyway.

After a year of getting
my fuzz petted and patted
(feels better than you’d guess-
it’s how I learned I purred)
I donned again my Samson’s face
-now with breasts, but minus the dress-
and I. Don’t. Cut. My. Hair.

© Sarah Whiteley

Props to my mother, who really did take that picture anyway. It’s a wonder she didn’t drink.