Mutants of society

Reproductive Biology lesson one-oh-one. Sperm plus egg plus nineteen years on this earth equals… me. I’m wearing the genes that my parents passed down to me- all the recessive ones. The blonde haired blue eyed daughter of two people with dark features- an easy target for an older sister who liked to convince me I was adopted. Repeatedly.
But I can only work with the genetic material I was given. Just like oak trees will produce more oak trees; and roses will give way to roses.
We do all we know how to do- pass on the information to make more of us.
It’s like a science nursery rhyme:
50% of you, 50% of me, put it together to make something pretty.
Our parents remain our parents, our genetic homeland- even if we don’t want them to be. We’re a sum of their parts.
Unless… unless a mutation occurs.
Spontaneous, unintentional, randomly induced mutation.
Leading to mutants. Changelings. Others.
In nature, being unique usually means you die early.
But sometimes- those rare, exceptional, world changing times- mutation leads to success.
A new variation that leads to an advantage over everyone else.
A certain uniqueness that means you survive longer- or make more babies.
Evolution. Natural selection. Biology 101.
Mutants. Children that are fundamentally different from their parents.
But…
Aren’t we the children of society?
What mindsets are we willingly inheriting?
Unlike our actual DNA makeup, we have a choice in the mental, genetic, apathetic mentalities that we hold so close.
So I rise. I stand. I am unzipping and discarding my genes of society.
I am a mutant of society.
Not an outsider, no. A messenger of change. Of empathy. Of peace. Of hope.
I may be a fluke, a random error in the process that is meant
to change me, mold me, leave me bent.
But more mutants will find their voices and join me soon. Stand with me soon.
I am the product of the recessive genes of my parents, completely hidden within their bodies until they were united in one being- me.
I am the product of the unheard voices of society; of the world.
And I am speaking, defiant.
Not rebellious- not yet anyway.
I defy the standards set up for me- I mutate from the norm.
I refuse to hide behind Gucci sunglasses, deafen myself with ipod headphones, restrict my hands by constantly texting.
Eyes are for looking, for crying, for giving sidelong glances, for widening with shock. Ears are for listening, for music to work its magic, for voices to be heard.
Hands are for touching, waving hello, for high fives for shaking, for holding, for saying goodbye.
I don’t want a tiffany’s necklace or a Prada bag or Jimmy Choo heels.
Don’t tell me that I should exist as a shallow, vapid, gold digger just because I’m tall blonde and curvaceous. Has it occurred to you that there might be more going on behind my eyes? Which are up here, by the way.
I would rather talk about the world than which celebrity marriage has gone to shit
But they keep jabbering at me; this useless information stream just won’t quit
Tell me instead who’s gaining power, who they’re killing now
Look me in the eye and tell me how
We can blatantly ignore
the wars, the genocide, the poverty,
all the things that are beyond fucked up in the world
All because we can’t physically hear their plea.
Who am I to preach to you about global issues?
You don’t care, you have other places to be.
But that’s just it- I care. You don’t.
Am I the only one left with empathy?



I’m already standing in front of you
Speaking loudly-

I will not conform to the stereotypes laid out for me
Or engage in this global apathy
I’ve been looking and what I see
Is an alternate reality
Where the youth are inspired and encouraged to care
They stand for what they believe in; pride laid bare
They actually think- about more than what they wear
We are the future, the answer to your prayer.
Rise now, or forever hold your peace
Stand up, mutants of society
Change is now. The future is ours.
Whatever we make it to be.

Rainbow piano/ rhapsody in blue

The wind section starts blowing.
Like the wind in the trees, playing out a sweet melody that would rival that of the birds
Cymbals crash to create
Poetry, only without words

The piano comes in
Hands sweeping up and down, in and out
In a flash of speeding digits
Black and white keys
Trilling out the same tune over and over

Like fingers on a keyboard
That ticka ticka tapa tap
As I write my own symphony
The music of language

The beat drops
The oboes and trumpets and saxaphones
Loudly express what they have to say
The violins create a backdrop that soothes the soul
Meanwhile, the pianist is still whirring along

Hands flying over keys
Black and white, black and white
I was always curious
As to why there were no more colors on the piano
After all, the song is called rhapsody in blue
You’re supposed to be able to hear the color

The saxaphones and trumpets are a regal gold
The oboe is sleek black and silver
The violins are cherry reds and nutmeg browns
Rich colors of the forest
But the piano?
Black. And white.

For something that creates such rich combinations of sound, it looks awfully boring.
Why not have a color gradient going up the keys-
A rainbow piano.

As you know, a rainbow is made
When the sun hits water in the sky
It makes something unexplainable
An unsung lullaby.

Three elements: fire, air, and water
Combined with the fourth and fifth:
The person standing on the ground
And looking up at it with a gaping jaw.

All the colors we know, naturally in one place
Such a delicious visual treat
Should be heard as well
Experienced in all ways possible

So let the soft pinks be the high pitched tinkling notes
That tell of the gentle rose buds, so full of innocence
Fade into powerful reds and oranges,
strong notes of fires and sunsets
Farther even, into the yellows
Warming and comforting like light that can be felt in your heart
Soothing greens, the color of the natural world
As the center of the bands, the center of the keys
Which all life and all music revolves around
Deeper into the lower notes, the blues- used as the background of songs
Like the water of the world, the oceans that are the constant rhythym
Obeying the moon, the constant hand that plays out a beat against the beach and against the quickly changing trills
Into the deepest, lowest notes that resonate in our chests
The gentle lilacs into the rich purples that are so rarely found
Filling us with a sense of wonder and mystery

One must learn to
Combine all the colors in the keys
If they wish to compose
the emotions they experience
into symphonies.

Eyes.

those eyes.
the ones that see right through me.
The ones that I haven't actually seen in two months.
They make me smile.
they make me feel blissful and hopeful and giddy.
Your portal to the world. My link to you.
You know, I want to look in your eyes while I'm in your arms and tell you... everything.


Those eyes. Your eyes.
The bright, deep, open door to you.
All of who you are.
I love your eyes.

Being a writing fiend

I couldn't make up my mind.
Here today, maybe call you tomorrow.
I would rock it on the dance floor
Good at getting attention- all kinds of it

I was easily intrigued
but when it came to commitment
I had A.D.D.
I wasn't one to be tied down

I heard all the promises
the compliments
the offers
but I wasn't impressed

then I found you
who didn't promise anything
didn't ask anything
was too shy to even make a move

And my mind made itself up
I was tied to you
You still haven't offered me anything
but I'm still stuck on you anyway

because the way we are
works best unsaid
we hope we'll be together
but we're exploring the blind alleys
together.

Past, Present, and Future Lovers

I'll be a bond girl
if you can be double oh seven
We'll defeat evildoers
and make our own heaven

If you can be tarzan
I'll be jane
We'll live in the jungle
king and queen of our domain

If you call yourself Tristan
I'll call myself isolde
without the poison, or death
until our story is fully told

I'll say that I'm bonnie
If you say you're clyde
We'll be outlaws in each others' arms
and it'll be one hell of a ride.

I'll be the cleopatra
to your anthony
We'll walk like egyptians
and live in harmony

I wouldn't say I'm barbie
If you wanted to be ken
that's only because I hate her
but I'd let you try again

I'll dance with you as Ginger Rogers
If you twirl as Fred Astaire
We can dazzle the world
with out wit and our flair

I'll be a pale Pocahontas
to your dark skinned John Smith
We can create legends
stronger than myths

You can be my knight, my Lancelot
and I'll be your damsel, your Guinevere
Rescue me from myself
where we can live without fear

Or you can say you're you.
and I can say I'm me.
Names don't matter much
if you and I become a "we".

So far beyond over my head

I want to run and keep running
but my legs are too tired
and can't carry me any farther.

I just want to curl up here
next to you
exchanging body heat and sweet nothings
but you're too far away
and yet you're getting too close

I'm getting so attached
with every minute, every word, every morning
every time I wake up and you're not next to me

I'm so young, I know
but I can't help dreaming of forever
only to wake up confused
When it's not forever
it's just today
another day
when you're not around.

When you're gone
I feel like I lose a part of myself
You're becoming another part of what I call home
and I don't understand fully what's happening

It's terrifying to me
when i'm scared
I run.
So I want to run.
I want to run to you. Into your arms.

Hold me close. Don't let go.
I feel like I'll fly to pieces if you do.

Questions

If I fall,
will you catch me?
If I asked you,
would you wait patiently?

Will you fight against those
who can't understand?
Will you follow your heart
and give me your hand?

Are you willing
to take the chance?
On something we've felt
since first glance?

Are you willing to believe
in the idea of fate?
Or in that some way
we've found our soul mates?