My life wasn’t a path
but rather zig zags
way finding
bridges and holes
chasms and cliffs
taking only
the road that was
with courage
to step
off
an asphalt toll highway
and move into the shadows
across the piled up stones.

don’t be silly

Nose buried in fantasy
I dreamed of a different time
of being, where I could adventure
turn a ship into a sunrise
put a dragon on pedestal
write legends history would read
lead a troupe of destiny seekers
out of childhood.

be practical

Studying molecules and gases
a world divided between
organic and inorganic
still — I followed
to a dead-end canyon
a place, an abyss
into which I stared
ready to cast myself
or find a way
across it, around it, down
into it
and back out.

you failed

The stainless steel reflected me
as I sweat time
on the slippery surfaces
“I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you …”
exchanging mixed tapes
around the working kitchen
as I found myself faint
lost
bleeding on the floor.

get out

I fell into passion
childhood loves
reading, writing, learning
became a present junction
just a path
without destination ….

we don’t need you now

There was no arrival
there were airplanes
ferries and trains
backpacks and hiking boots
mended with dental floss
sleeping on cracks
a migrant other
a minority in my white skin
a black market cowboy
in tie die and long hair.

laowai

A foreigner in my own land
paralyzed
burgeoning supermarkets
left me hungry in fear
reinventing myself
zig zag
the roots grow deep into the clay
steps rise
out of the erosion
footholds
a path
shattered trees
stumps and paper leaves.

get a job

Writing becomes work
poetry into briefing notes
stories now reports
once talking books just meetings
meter and feet count the KPIs
fantasies metamorphose
project management
standard operating procedures
and templates
my inspiration
a new social contract
defined by success.

you meet expectations — just 3.5%

All the while
the backstory fills with life
the cast off minutes
once masquerading
as sustenance
are meaning
and meaningful
the windblown seeds
dormant afterthoughts
find life in the brickstone
I had become
lichen feeding on
the mortar.

you should do this for living

Dinner parties
expressions of love
jams and preserves
fermented sauces
wild yeasts
tended gardens
smoking
baking
reinventing
essays transformed into recipes
a blog about living
life’s passions
tasting
kneading
seeing and smelling
multiply decades
into a path
I never knew
was there.

∞

Submitted as part of “National/Global Poetry Writing Month” (#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo).
Today’s prompt: Day Two: Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about your own road not taken – about a choice of yours that has “made all the difference,” and what might have happened had you made a different choice.