Light, Truth, and I don't Know.
Three poems by Autumn Slaughter
Light
Light is
stronger than
darkness. Says
Buddha, says
Jesus, says
I.
One is
measurable.
relatable.
Can be told
and described.
Never fully
felt, never fully
understood.
But captured.
Contained between
letters. Though
the words often
bend with the weight
of their burden.
The words never
bend with joy.
Are instead always
empty, as experience
dances like butterflies
in the air. Refusing
to settle long
enough to be
described. To be
related.
Light is
stronger than
darkness. Because
you cannot
hold it down with
mere human
hands.
stronger than
darkness. Says
Buddha, says
Jesus, says
I.
One is
measurable.
relatable.
Can be told
and described.
Never fully
felt, never fully
understood.
But captured.
Contained between
letters. Though
the words often
bend with the weight
of their burden.
The words never
bend with joy.
Are instead always
empty, as experience
dances like butterflies
in the air. Refusing
to settle long
enough to be
described. To be
related.
Light is
stronger than
darkness. Because
you cannot
hold it down with
mere human
hands.
Truth?Who decides
truth? That gut wrenching reaction so unstable. I know nothing because I think. Truth. not defined by a mystic deep down feeling constantly changing different for everyone including me now and me then. Are we all gods of different stories – 6 billion realities created by six billion contexts, experiences? Who Decided romanticism was the king of prose? Who took his crown. passed it to realism. modernism. Now. The Public? If I know Something they do not-- Does that truth break? Break just for me? Scatter? Demote to the status of opinion? Who decided skinny was good big noses bad balding unsightly And when that changes who will discard these truths and how? Are new ones crafted First, groomed for promotion, or are They swept on stage as last minute additions? I do not know. Do know I am not the who, it is not I dictating to the universe. to the narrative. I Know the power is not mine. But also also know truly, really know in a way somehow different than a gut wrench, than opinion masquerading, than empty words. Somehow I know. i know. you. You are completely unequivocally beautiful and that is truth. |
I don’t know.
I can’t answer
that
question. The
doubt that
is escaping from
you, replacing
the oxygen in
the air
permeated me
a long time
ago. “I
don’t know”
but I am
afraid to
admit it. Admit
the chasm
opening at your
feet is not just
a figment of
imagination, does
not have a
sturdy bridge,
is actually as
deep as it
looks. I don’t
know.
but
maybe you
already
know that,
and aren’t
asking for
a bridge. Asking
instead for
someone else
to admit that
what you see
is real. That the
problem
exists. That it’s
big.
Why else
would you
calm down,
and almost
smile, when
I finally
work up the
nerve give you
my answer.
that
question. The
doubt that
is escaping from
you, replacing
the oxygen in
the air
permeated me
a long time
ago. “I
don’t know”
but I am
afraid to
admit it. Admit
the chasm
opening at your
feet is not just
a figment of
imagination, does
not have a
sturdy bridge,
is actually as
deep as it
looks. I don’t
know.
but
maybe you
already
know that,
and aren’t
asking for
a bridge. Asking
instead for
someone else
to admit that
what you see
is real. That the
problem
exists. That it’s
big.
Why else
would you
calm down,
and almost
smile, when
I finally
work up the
nerve give you
my answer.
|
Autumn Slaughter is a clinical psychology doctoral student at the University of Tulsa. In 2017 Autumn’s poetry was part of the third annual TEDx Tulsa event. Autumn's poetry has appeared in the Paragon Journal, The Write Launch, and an Oklahoma anthology.
|
|