Poetic Tryptich, by E. Lewy

Choice  of Words

“You’re miserable,” twice, by people who can’t

Respect the life I lead, quiet and productive and full

of pride that endures long after they’ve come and gone.

Pride that does not always mean a beaming smile,

But instead a real view of my identity--that I best be proud

In the face of their misunderstanding.

That I can be called a mama bear and an uncompromising activist

Disabled, queer, neuroqueer, with a family that spans the globe.
Those of us who stand tall while so many others wish to label us,

suffering, afflicted, miserable, crippled, lacking in empathy

childish, sexless, bound, trapped, inept.  I choose.
Strong, observant, resourceful, resilient, disabled.

In the Blood

Activism is in the blood

three generations deep, stretching through

the Civil Rights Movement

to the AIDS crisis

To gender as a spectrum and

neurology that is queer, holding

the knowledge of a greater good

we all reach for, for us all.

An understanding that love is

meeting everyone where they are,

caring for their wounds

and the wounds of those before us

Acknowledgment of the past,

that it cannot be escaped

and it cannot be improved upon

unless we witness.

Activism is committing to a better future,

one where more people are awake

to the consequences of actions

and knowledge of what love can do.

Microcosm

My community is quiet,

with a soft unity of purpose.

At the end of the day,.

coming home.

We share dreams and nightmares

with only a few words, or none at all.

Knowing silences, and support

coming across any distance.

The fight is day to day, little victories,

and judgment withheld.

The smaller unit

part of a greater whole.

No clamoring masses seeking unity,

but a family who has already found it.

Unhampered by time or space,

we are always willing and able to lend solidarity.

Fighting for each other

in all the places that we call home.

Our pride and love builds bridges

others try to tear down, but they never will.