Pronouns

I love my wife

“Bravo!” you exclaim
Accolades turn sour
As pronouns reveal
I am also a wife.

My first response
To bristle
I then regret
The unkindness of my tone
In response to lack of understanding.

I am saddened.
You see
You may never know
The laughter we share
The passion for life we exuberate.

You may never know her stories
Her resilience, adventures, pains.
You may miss her impartation
Of kindness into your soul.

He has a husband.
I have a wife.
Why so put off
By a simple display of affection?
Are pronouns so intimidating?

It is time we change this maddening world

And learn to love above all else.
If I love her and she loves me,
And he loves him and he loves he,
Love is in bloom.

The
world
is
made
brighter.

~kcasey

It is time. Peace to you.

Holiday Difficulties

The holidays are often quite difficult for some LGBT individuals, many of them young, who are distanced from their families.  Although they long to be with these families, the ridicule and judgments make this difficult, miserable, or even impossible. Recently, I wrote the following poem as I pondered some of these stories. To those who are hurting I say: My heart is with you this season; please know that you are not alone. I hope that one day you will be accepted by your family and celebrated for the unique individual you are. Don’t give up; keep up your journey. Love yourself; recognize that they hurt you because they simply don’t understand yet. This is not to justify their actions, there is no justification for such, but it is to let you know that we stand with you. We are cheering you on! May you find your happiness and peace; if you need help, reach out. We will not have all the answers, but we will listen. 

Your Game

The blow you deal strikes hard

Within the deepest point of my soul;

Not a physical blow, but to some, yes,

A blow of pain, scorn, and rejection.

You even mock my reaction to this blow

As if I should feel no pain, offense.

Yet you cry out in the dark of night

As your toe meets the corner of the bed.

Child’s play, comparatively.

Your blow leaves wounds, scars.

No bandage conceals it, no medicine heals it

I taste the pain in each slow breath.

My absence labeled selfish

Yet your contempt is the true culprit.

I would not choose detachment

Home is where I belong.

To pretend I am not me

Is to erase my existence;

I will rise—I will be me

I will not play your game.

Poem of Peace

For quite some time now, I've been reading and pondering the notion of peace and peace movements in the midst of war times. Pockets of turmoil can be found in virtually every country; the vast majority of us, from all backgrounds and cultures, desire peace, yet, at times, it seems so far beyond our grasp. Why do we so quickly resort to violence and war? Why does war sell so much easier than peace? It seems absurd to think that more violence will stop the existing violence. (although I haven't always seen the world in this light)

Yesterday morning, I awoke with peace on the brain once again. I quickly penned this before leaving for work. I'll share it with you, as it is my hope for today, for our country, and for the all the peoples with which we share this globe. We are in this together, lest we forget.

The elusive dream written upon each soul

As the first breath is drawn—

Void of fear, hunger, lack

Knowing love at morning’s dawn—

Contentment rests on every mother’s face

Her child sleeps nourished—

A father’s embrace of his daughter

She walks to school cherished—

A village celebration

Welcoming spring rain—

Two men in love

Down the avenue without shame—

No shadows of despair

No neglected, forgotten—

No slave, no master

No broken, downtrodden—

Peace.

In the hearts of all

As this colossal seed—

Torn from our midst

By power, hate, and greed.

Peace to you today.