Making Little Musicals, by Jennifer Angelina Petro

Making Little Musicals

By

Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

It’s amazing, isn’t it?

How our everyday speaking

Voices can be elevated

Instantaneously, into singing.

Think of it—one word

You can speak, one word

You can sing—a sentence can

Rise and fall in and out

Of song like the invisible path

Of a butterfly wings.

I know, you might be

Thinking—And?

To which I say:  And everything!

Everything is right there

In that simple, effortless

Reshaping of sound, of carrying joy

On the breath from within you.

Perhaps everything said should be sung,

Perhaps every year that goes by

Should be full of song, or,

At very least long stretches

Of each season—Imagine that–

Even if some songs are dirges, even if some songs

Are sung on tip-toe just out of our range,

Even if some songs

Are in languages we do not understand,

Even if some songs are screamed like ones

In a punk band, even if some songs

Are in three-part harmony,

Even if some songs move us

To tears, even if some songs

Lift us into realms of glory–

I think we should try it—sing

Every word for one day

And see how much fun it could be

Making little musicals

While buying a cup of coffee,

Or saying, hello while holding

The door, or sending the kids

Off to school, or arguing over

Politics, or teaching in a classroom,

Or giving a sermon, or while greeting

A pet or spouse, or telling someone

You love them forever.

 

clouds light

 

 


 

 


All donations go to medical expenses and groceries.  Thank you for your loving support. <3


Untelling the Lies, by Radiance Angelina Petro

Untelling the Lies

By

Radiance Angelina Petro

 

 

All poetry

Fesses up

To something.

No matter

If you, the composer,

Sing of witches,

City streets,

Serbian atrocities,

Mountains, or rivers.

You reveal something

Of yourself

That cannot be easily hidden

To the naked eye

And ear.

You can try

To compose

Anonymously,

But that is like

Your breath

Being anonymously breathed

From your own lungs.

I write of aliens, fireflies,

Roots, little epiphanies,

And sometimes

Poems funnel

Through about being

Intersex and trans,

But in each and every word,

Each coma, line-spacing,

And pause, you see

Me, and know a little bit more

About me.

Let go of whether

Or not your songs

Are confessional—merely

Confessional.

You cannot prevent your poems

From showing

Your hand

Any more than you can

Stop pain

From reflecting itself

In your eyes.

So go ahead,

Speak to us.

Admit things

About yourself

That can be cleverly

Couched in syllables

And roots.  Tell us

Who you are—

It is important,

And in doing so

You are helping vulnerability

Become as common place

As shame, and, with any luck,

Even more so.

For in the same way

You cannot conceal

Yourself between the lines

Or the words,

You cannot shirk

From the responsibilities

Writing them brings either.

You see, you and I,

Each has their own sets

Of responsibilities and reasons

As to why and when and how

We write, and, over time,

We must discover what those are

Because no matter what

They are—they are ultimately moral

And in need of fulfilling,

Just as water fulfills the ocean.

Every poem ever written

Fesses up to something.

So proclaim.

Expel demons.

Revolutionize.

Attest to resiliency.

Steel entire nations

Against storms of dryness.

And as you breathe life

Into lines and symbols,

Resuscitating the word–

You

Are shedding

Light,

As a snake sheds skin.

Only the light you shed sonars

Into the atmosphere

Revealing obstacles here

Or there for others to avoid,

Keeping in mind

Some obstacles

Are as necessary

As kisses.

In other words:

People are watching, waiting, listening,

For you to speak—

To speak some truth

They always needed to hear,

But only now, from you, can.

With every poem

You write, you are helping

Each of us unlearn

What we should have

Never learned.

You are helping

Destroy the world

Of a loneliness that is pandemic,

And helping create

Soul-expanding

Congruencies between people

Of all shapes, sizes, genders,

Races, ethnic backgrounds, ages,

Economic statuses, and political leanings.

Look around.

See how much beauty

There is,

How much light

Comes to you

Or that you believe you

Draw down, or through,

Or up-from

Yourself—

It doesn’t matter

What you believe

About the origins of the revelation,

What matters is

You shine yourself to yourself,

And, more importantly,

You shine to others.

That is how we expose the lies

That need untelling.

That is how we exercise shame

Into its rightful place

Of gone.

That is how we become

Who we always secretly wanted

To be.

 

 

 


 

 


Thank you for supporting my continued transition.  Yours, Radiance <3