Category Archives: poetry

Rising Up to Meet the Road, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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Rising Up to Meet the Road

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

beautiful road

 

 

There are poems unfinished

Waiting in the woods beneath roots of trees

And hovering, like horsetail clouds behind the moon;

There are songs unwritten

Following beside me as I walk,

Their melodies coming in snippets, like

Distant birdcalls or pieces

Of dreams, and soundbites

Of conversations overheard

In used bookstores, classrooms, and coffee shops,

Their rhythms blossoming

From the muse and the soul touching all night, all day,

Every day, when I am not able to dance

Either asleep or awake;

There is work undone

Waiting in the universe, making its way

Towards my door, opportunities

Growing, like flower gardens

Planted when no one is looking,

But they are coming, they are revealing

Themselves little by little, like

Spring in the coldest of winters;

There are people unloved

Waiting in the wings for me to release the spirits

That bind me–to make my way

Towards the light, to open

The hands of my heart

And let in those who see

And feel and know my name,

And for me to step through

The fourth wall and into their arms and lives;

There are answered prayers

Unprayed, waiting to be let loose

Into the world, like

So many fireflies, like a carnival

Of children, like a collection

Of songs and poems

Published on the wings

Of pain and healing and lifting their way

Into moonlit clouds and sunlit days,

And alighting back down as angels and

Moonbeams, sunbeams and ends of rainbows,

Petals of cherry blossoms,

Dragonflies, and cries of cicadas

And morning doves, and beings

Of all the elements, and all of this, all of this

Swirling into one, worthy to be lived

Life of one woman rising up

To meet the road.

 

 

 


 

 

 

 





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My Nest Was Built With Little Bones, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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My Nest Was Built With Little Bones

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

 

My nest was built with little bones,

Shells, feathers, twigs, candy wrappers,

Shiny things, torn pages of catechisms, shabads,

And pornographic magazines,

It was made of moss and hair, abandoned ribbons,

Scraps of red bandannas, silken scarves,

Shopping lists, and spit.

 

 

For years I incubated beneath the hollow-boned lark,

Or was it a mockingbird?

My shell survived storms

And long stretches where only monsters,

Drunken owls, and sleepy seagulls smothered me

In the night.  I learned to hide myself—

A nest within a nest—an egg within an egg;

I lived tucking parts of me away

I never wanted.  Brooding memories

Filled the nest like bits of worms regurgitated,

And every now and again I caught a glimpse of a faraway blue sky.

 

 

When the egg hatched and the nest

Bloomed, I stared blindly into myself,

Wiggling stubs of wings I so wanted covered with feathers and flight.

Yet now, I live, I walk, a nest on legs, a human egg, a permanent fledgling—

Wings clipped, song raspy with rain and darkness,

And a road of eggshells spreading out before me wherever I go.

 










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Gift of a Lifetime, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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Gift of a Lifetime
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

me

 

 
When the gift of a lifetime
Fell into my lap, I opened my hands
To receive it, and the flowers I held
Dissolved into the darkening sky;
The little flock of birds I sheltered
Lifted into the April air and were gone,
And suddenly I sat–heart stung with revelation and rejoicing,
Living truth flowing through my blood–afraid;
And my shape began to change like winter
Into spring, and my eyes, shadowed and wide,
Looked back into my life and saw it all clear as day,
But could not see the road ahead;
And then, I rose, gift safely treasured away,
And my hands, empty, searching for light.

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 





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Hopelessness Fogging, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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Hopelessness Fogging
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 
Ravens gather in the spring oak,
Waiting, staring down;
Day after day they descend
Into the budding branches
Until their gathering becomes a flock
And their flock a swarm;
When they sense hopelessness
Fogging through my bones in my room,
As one they open the cloaks of their wings,
Drift to the ground,
And move—one bobbing, black, cawing sea
Marching towards my door.

 

 

 

 


 

 

 




Thank Goodness Eve, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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Thank Goodness Eve
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

Thank goodness Eve had the good sense

To follow her hunger—to touch sweetness

And bring it to her lips;

Thank goodness Eve understood perishing

In return for gaining wisdom

Was well worth the extinguishing;

Thank goodness Eve saw rules made by cowards

Were meant to be broken;

Thank goodness Eve was open minded enough

To talk with a serpent–to reason and to know

Desire is holy and so is nakedness;

Thank goodness Eve did not judge by appearances

And instead saw the light in the serpent’s eyes;

Thank goodness Eve knew partaking in and sharing bliss at the risk

Of losing it all was delicious and full of grace;

Thank goodness Eve walked out of that garden—

Left being controlled by fear

And a patriarchal god

Behind her, and became one of us—

A sister, a daughter, a mother, a woman—

Thank goodness Eve took paradise back

By living deeply with the earth

And the moon, and community, and her own soul;

Thank goodness Eve understood—once–and for all—

That the knowledge of good and evil

Was different from the actions of good and evil–

That the ability to think for oneself

Did not imprison, did not condemn–

It liberated—liberated us to become the true goddesses

We were meant to be–

The kind that would gladly struggle

To bring heaven down and share it with the earth—

Without condition, without thought–

For all beings, for all time, for all dreams, for all passions–

To rejoice and be fulfilled—Thank goodness Eve

Allowed divine indulgences to bloom from between her legs–

Thank goodness we all stream from one undismayed woman

Whose single act of rebellion—inspires in us still today

The single-minded desire to be free.

 

 




All donations go to my continued transition and to keeping the Wonder Child Blog up and running.  Thank you.

 


 

Moon Psalm, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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Moon Psalm
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

You pull the tides in with silver reigns
And flood the shores of my already loosening faith,
You bring dark water to the roots of my self-loathing
And sprout entire orchards of menacing trees,
You coax little rivulets to migrate to hidden gardens of shame
That grow in the corners of my mind, helping them thrive
And spread like vines of poison ivy,
You throw down rain and muddy the earth of my hope,
You trouble the lakes and ponds of my dreams, creating resonances
That only go so far—far enough to seep over the roads
Of where I think I should be going, far enough to soak the fields of wonder
I used to love; far enough to lap at the horizon that for some reason
Still wants me–Moon, you draw forth tears from the well of my soul
And turn the waterwheel that powers the millstones
That grind the flour of my sorrow into the bitter bread of not caring anymore—
Moon, you know I need you—you know you are the most high—
Go ahead drown me–carry me home in the folds of your silver river
And lay me on the shores of your breathing
Where I can become one with the sky.

 

moon

Dead Name Sings, A Spoken Word Poem, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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Dead Name Sings
A Spoken Word Poem
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

me first commuinion0008

 

Dead Name Sings

by

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

I do not wish to erase a life,

By attempting to wash away a name,

Joseph is not a dead name.

It lives on, echoing in Jennifer,

Weaving through references

And documents, old photographs and letters,

It lives on because memories are living things;

Please do not mishear or misinterpret

What I am saying—Joseph was a name

Given to a body—not a soul,

Not an understood gender;

I am Jennifer Angelina Petro—my chosen name—

And that is how I will be called—it is, one could say

My married name—I kept the surname—

For Joseph and I are married in perhaps

The truest sense of the word—

And so I am to be called: Jennifer Angelina Petro.

Call me Joseph and I might weep

And he will understand

And take no offence–he wants me to be seen,

Affirmed and embraced by the world;

For these reasons alone,

I have no interest in evaporating

An entire existence, because it did not

Encompass then who I am now.

Joseph was a gentleman,

And like all good men, offered to give himself

Completely to his beloved, and so we are one,

And I know he did pretty fucking good

All those years I lived unknown.

Joseph held down the fort

Until the cavalry of truth came riding in

Blowing the doors off a life lived in shadows,

And he sang while no one, and everyone,

Was listening:

“Jennifer Angelina,

Love of my life, true goddess of my soul.”

And yes he sings through this voice, and touches

Through these hands—

He deserves as much for all he has done,

For all he suffered from those who tried to keep him

From knowing I was there waiting in the wings,

Sending signals and cues, lines, and motions,

Gestures, and fascinations that bemused him

With secret joy,

He tried to let me out and was met

With abuse and the worst of what religion can do,

So he did what he could to keep me alive and safe–

He hid me in the pockets of his dreams,

Singing all the while where only I could hear:

“Jennifer Angelina,

Love of my life, true goddess of my soul.”

And when he finally began to crack

From the weight of carrying a whole other life

In the womb of his soul, he crumbled,

Did his best to break my fall as he fell, and then,

As I stepped more and more into the open,

He slowly disappeared behind the curtains,

Singing: “Jennifer Angelina,

Love of my life, true goddess of my soul.”

But he is not dead–

Joseph lives on,

And he is holy—a sacristy made of unwanted

Flesh and blood  where a priestess of beauty

Prepares for mass.

And the more I take center stage

And live a life of epic proportions,

And grand style, operatic adventures,

And plot twists a-plenty, the more he willingly

Fades into the background, back to into spirit,

And he does not want to be beckoned back,

He does not want his name called out—

He laid down his life for the sake of his love–

And as he fades I hear him

Whispering incantations and prayers,

Spells of enchantment and protection,

Runes of good cheer and prosperity,

And sometimes, from the rafters,

Where he has perched himself to watch and to guide,

I hear: “Jennifer Angelina,

Love of my life, true goddess of my soul.”

And we celebrate the end of a run,

And toast the beginning of a life

Lived in lights–where anything is possible,

And all things shine freely, truer than true,

A life full of roses and ovations, dinner parties

And rave reviews,

And more calling cards than the biggest star

On Broadway,

And sometimes, when the house has emptied

And I am alone backstage, removing my makeup,

He steals next to me, drapes his coat

Over my shoulders,

And walks me home through the hatred

I live with and the alleyways, and the transphobia

That echoes with far away trains and honking cars,

Scavenging cats, and sirens that flash in the puddles

And shop windows,

And when we get to my place

He kisses my hand, and turns,

Shimmering once again into the shadows, singing,

Like spring, like moonlight,

Like stars, like wind, like an angel, he sings:

“Jennifer Angelina, love of my life,

True goddess of my soul.”

 



All donations go to furthering my transition.  Thank you.

 

 


 


When There is Nowhere to Turn, I Find Myself Surrounded by the Moon and Her Messengers of Light, By Jennifer Angelina Petro

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When There is Nowhere to Turn
I Find Myself Surrounded by the Moon and Her Messengers of Light
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro

moon

One morning, walking through the January forest,
I watched the path double back on itself and disappear.
One evening, sailing on an indigo ocean of questions,
I saw the horizon swallow itself whole, like a monster all stomach and mouth.
I too searched for brains, a heart, and a home,
And the yellow-brick road turned into rust.
Heaven has fallen from the sky like so many shot-down stars.
There is nowhere to turn that doesn’t lead to ghost towns and empty silos.
My aspirations get stuck in the trees, like shreds of shawls.
Angels’ wings have folded.
Smiles are rimmed in blood.
Embraces reach for me and miss, grasping themselves.
The time has come for whirlwinds and blizzards,
The time has come for floods, and bone-rattling thunder,
Look—the sun was just swallowed by a wolf—
Look—the bridges have all burst into flame–
Look—
The moon is growing fuller,
Taking over the darkness—
Look—she is pulling the sun from the belly of the wolf–
Look—she is stilling the thunder and plucking my prayers from the trees—
Look-she is unfolding the path and shaking out the horizon and spreading it afar, anew—
Look—she is picking up the fallen stars and hanging them back in their places—
Look—she is brushing the angels’ wings and rubbing their shoulders—
Look—she is wiping the bloody mouths, like
A mother wiping a child’s face—rough and tender, all at once–
Look—she is steadying me so I don’t duck or fall when the embraces come—
Look-she is gently scolding me to listen better to her messengers of Light called:
“You.”
Look—she is lifting me, rocking me in the softest of breezes, singing,
And whispering runes and spells, affirmations, and ways through the dark,
And treasure maps and secret passageways through mountains and dungeons–
Her tears fall down her breasts, mixing with her milk as she lets me suckle
For as long as I need in the cradle of her light-filled, infinite arms.


 

 

All donations go towards my transition.  Thank you.  <3


 

Misfit of Light by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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Misfit of Light
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

 

Oh sweet seed, how you bundled into the egg with such eagerness and gusto,
Oh sweet egg, how you nestled snuggly into the roots along the riverbank of my mother’s womb,
Oh sweet soul, being of love and light, how you sped through the heavens to guide this tiny spark,
Oh sweet spirit of wonder, how you swirled and danced and unfolded a girl into the body of a boy,
Did you get so caught up in the bliss of kissing the soul
That you took leave of your senses and careened drunkenly into the making of me?
It’s OK. I am not angry. I can make light of it today
Because I am an alchemist of form, able to transmute wood into moss and salt into musk,
I am a misfit of the highest order,
I am a being of light ungendered living in a vessel that walks in genders;
I am a chalice, a holder of sweetness, shaped with a cup and a stem unlike any other woman’s,
I am a journey–star-navigated through the cities and woods with a knapsack full of fruit,
I am a sailor and the sea and a ship made of ever smoothing wood,
I am the map and the country and the treasure marked with an X and an X and another X and a Y,
I am a heavenly body and a sky full of moons and stars,
I am a noble kink in the standard protocol of the world,
And I am loved by many—enough to become an open road of freedom,
Enough to sing my way home and into bed with the goddess
Who waits to render me back into her soul of souls
Where holy darkness blossoms all things misfit into perfect garden-mounds of joy.

 

 

 

 


All donations go to my transition.  Thank you.

 

 


 

Ode to the Medicines, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

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Ode to the Medicines
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

 

In a rush of water
The tan, round pill,
Like a little pebble,
Is blessed:

Thank you for finally
Putting an end
To all I never wanted to be,
Thank you for softening
Those parts that hardened
When abused,
Thank you for building a wall
So that paradise
May blossom here……………here………………………and here.

 

And then baptizing
The even smaller, smooth diamond-shaped,
Turquoise pill—Bringer of Dawn,
Highly Favored Lady,
Sacred jewel in the diadem
Of fragrant gardens—

Thank you.
Thank you for bringing water
To the desert of my soul,
Thank you for being the thousand keys
To the thousand locks opening
The thousand treasure boxes
Of who I really am,
Thank you for smoothing the rough edges,
Thank you for opening the flood gates
Of an adolescence that was stolen long ago,
Thank you for bringing together
The little girl, the woman, and the crone,
We dance in gratitude under the sacred fire for the moon,
For the medicines, for the beginning
Of a beginning that wasn’t
Allowed to start until now.
Now the goddess rises through a thousand days of sun,
Now the goddess rises with a holy spiral
In her middle, now the goddess rises
Cradling the moon,
Now the goddess rises
The earth her womb
The universe her spirit,
The horizon her brow–
Thank you coven of angels
For guiding the lost boy home
Give him the best of all things
For he was faithful to the end,
Thank you gathering of wise ones
For seeing me as I am,
And for holding me in the river of your arms.

 

wissahickon

 





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