by Rochelle Del Borrello
You can be red raw and still sing your song.
You can have tears in your eyes and still tell your story.
The truth is where the tale lies.
You cannot or should not wait to share it.
The emotion will help you to connect to others.
Because everyone can see you
understand and communicate
with feelings.
So don’t be afraid to bleed onto the page
we all have the same blood in our veins.
I have given birth to monstrosities
to atrocities filled with insurmountable deformities,
who died horrible, merited deaths as they never
deserved to be born.
I have birthed many rapturous angels who went straight to heaven
too beautiful for this world,
too innocent to survive.
I have killed hundreds, no thousands of my babies,
not because I’m a murderer, but because
they needed to be stronger
I have been re-incarnated after every disappointment
I pushed myself beyond the sluggishness of grief
and dusted off the ashes after the inquisitions
burnt me at the stake.
I’m a tired old ageless phoenix.
I thrive despite it all,
I reinvent myself
endless times over, revive my fading spirit
because my soul comes from a tough line,
from those who outlived their conquerors
from those who have lived despite the misery
created happiness from empty nothing
I stand upon the stepping stones
my ancestors have left behind for me
I never lose my way and keep moving
along with my self designated path
I thrive on spiting life.
I dreamt I was trampled by a bear.
A giant golden coloured female grizzly.
I got too close to her cubs and she charged me.
The sound was epic like the reverberation of an earthquake.
She threw down the walls of the cabin and made the earth shake.
I was in awe of her power.
I felt no pain as I pretended to be dead,
holding my breath as long as I could in the dream.
I woke up so I could breathe.
I’m sure I survived.
She was only roaring out her anger over me
in this outer body experience.
This dream makes me wonder if I am being crushed by my own
expectations and inner frustrations.
Or if I need to roar out my anger too.
Don't honour the famous and wealthy grey-haired film stars and businessmen
they are too comfortable and aren't struggling
they don't need honouring, they have found success and comfort.
We need to honour those who are living with struggles greater than themselves
and who do so without complaint.
I honour the single mother trying to make it to the end of the month
with five dollars in her pocket, working double shifts,
trying to feed her babies.
I honour the refugees whose homeland has been blown to pieces
Who have no choice but to leave behind their whole world and have to start their lives over.
I honour the army veterans who returned home broken people, used up by the army
unable to readjust, with trauma
limping through their lives, marching onto
oblivion without thanks or acknowledgement of their sacrifices.
I honour the bereaved parent who has suffered through the unnatural act of burying their child
or children.
The mother's and father's of adult children torn away at their prime, adolescents who show so much promise, children, newborns or those who never knew anything but the womb.
God only knows how they continue to breathe even though they have lost their best parts.
I honour the creative who keeps creating for the love of it.
For every artist who succeeds, hundreds will never be appreciated, published, seen or listened to.
For every criticism, self-sabotage may there be many who breakthrough
and lift every other artist.
I honour the sons and daughters who care for infirm parents.
Just as they were cared for, now the old become children again.
That they may have the same patience and love that every good mother is blessed with.
For every survivor, whose broken heart keeps beating.
Anyone who has a soul weighed down with trauma.
I honour their strength and pray for forgiveness while shifting the burden of their memories.
I honour abandoned children and those who help them to learn to trust again.
I honour the queer and gender-fluid, whoever have suffered through hate, self-loathing and toxic relationships
All lost souls who have been treated without dignity or as outcasts.
To all who have found love and acceptance despite everything, they have been through.
Those who have survived violence, illness and alienation.
Above all, I honour those who have not survived.
I remember you, I see you, I feel you in my heart.
Love overcomes adversity because love is love is love.
Who do you honour?
