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The Poems of Glee....I have pitched my tent in the land of Joy.  
Poem 1  "Are You Sure This is Me?"

Are you sure this is my body?

My feet?

My hands?

(are these my knees?)

I don’t’ recall them being so wobbly

So knobby.

Did you do something to my pieces because they don’t seem to move like me?

I have nowhere to place these parts where they don’t feel 13.

(and not the good fresh 13, but an awkward 13 with braces and a bad haircut and no cute shoes)

When I’m around you, I 

Can’t stand up straight enough,

Can’t suck in enough,

Can’t be funny enough.

Cute enough.

CURSE THIS NOSE!

 How is it my tongue has grown so large?

No, not just large but lethargic too?

  and……it wouldn’t matter if I had a voice:

  It wouldn’t matter if my mouth could find its way to form the right words,

For language is puny in your presence.  

I have tried to describe our “this”

It is like trying to smell a sunset or hear a daisy.

How could I ever hope to sing the ocean or hold my breath?  

(OK…I might be able to hold my breath but not for long…not without you.) 

Do you really expect me to be anything but dumbfounded-giddy 

When I see you walking toward me and with that grin?

I wonder if I should put rocks in my pockets to meet you at the airport

Because when I see your face, gravity will have to wait.





Poem 2  "Surviving"

People talk of the “end,” as if it were some kind of a monster or cancer,

some kind of a never seen before disaster.

I hear them talk of how they don’t want to survive through the end.  

Well I do. I want to survive I mean. 

I want to step out of that rubble, dust and scraps fluffing off 

my jacket, my shoulders.

I want to step out of the ark, maybe with a bunny in my arms, 

maybe carrying a tigerlet, (OK….a kitten).

Maybe I will walk into that next world all arm empty 

and dancing fingered, 

reaching toward the clear cloudless sky of “after.”

After all, there is always an after.  

Do you hear what I am saying?  

There is ALWAYS an after.

Even the end has a beginning attached to it.  

Someday I’m gonna walk through that big ole door , 

I am going to wipe my feet on the welcome mat 

of “after,” calling happily, “Yoooo Hooooooo! Anybody home?!” 

Happy people value something much more than they value themselves. 

If there is nothing in 

your life that means more to you than you do, 

I fear you will be unhappy. No, that's not right. I 

fear you are already unhappy.

Are you feeling lethargic? Apathetic? Bored? Aimless? Hopeless? Get off your ass and do 

something. It won't be the outcome that brings you joy; it will be the effort. You've probably 

excused yourself from taking action in the past by saying, "but I'm not very good at it." Friend, 

no one is ever "good at it" in the beginning. But anything worth doing is worth doing badly until 

you get better at it.

Find something that needs to change. It can be anything bigger than you. Fight for it, work 

for it, throw all your creative energies into it. You will soon be frustrated, angry, disappointed 

and tired.

But happy.




Poem 3​