Unapologetic

If they call you vermin
show them moxie
no explanation needed

Best path is paved
with honesty, avoid
potholes of popularity

Authentic self
travels further
without camouflage.

(Image from personal collection.)

Excuse Me?!

Insults and mockery
and off the cuff remarks
all marks of authenticity
merely plain talking larks

so says the republican
in the president’s defence –
we are just oversensitive
those who take offence.

When was it disclosed,
I ask the figure on the screen,
that authenticity is ascribed
to spewing things obscene?

Now I am not American,
so neither right nor left,
still I cannot help but object
when justification is so bereft.

Authenticity, I cry out
implies honesty and trust,
building a self that is hospitable –
openness and compassion a must.

To equate such a concept
with this poor excuse of a man
has really pushed the boundaries;
I’m ready for a Trumpian ban.

(Today’s prompts are as follows:  Fandango’s word of the day:  object; Ragtag Community: hospitable; and Daily Addictions is disclose.  I am not usually political but hearing Trump’s recent comments described as authentic got me going – apparently. Photo is from my personal collection – reminds me of an angry forest spirit.)

Authenticity

The freedom to be unafraid,
even alone, connected
to a sense of purpose,
a trust in a higher being.

Never a thought given
to whether the attire is right,
hair just so, or whether or not
there’s enough money to live on.

Unfiltered honesty, a heart
full of wonder, a mind open
and eager to learn – will
unblemished by vanity.

Some call it naiveté
some call it innocence
I call it authenticity

this five-year-old sprite
whose simplicity of being
defies any other reality.

Worth is a Birthright

Do not grovel,
sweep floors, carry
out garbage, debase values
just for the attention
of another;

no more than
bear, grizzled and
battered, whose nature
defies formerly
coveted

notions of
romance; hoping
to find a modicum of
understanding
kind word

recognition.
Don’t be a captive,
a bride wannabe toting
leathers and chains
wild hairdo

waiting
on mainstream
betrothal, enduring love.
Do not kidnap,
imprison

reverse roles
blame, bully, cramp
obligations, compartmentalize
your hunger, lose
coherency.

Be free,
adopt a persona
of abundance, share fullness
of your gifts,
stay true.

(Image: dict.space.4goo.net)

Innocence and Authenticity

I am five.  Chronologically, I am five.  Inside, I feel as old as I’ll ever be.

I am free of the burdens and distractions that surround me, and often, alone.

I have a sense of something I can’t quite articulate – purpose, mingled with wisdom; trust, and a connection larger than me.

I do not question whether I am wearing the right clothes for my figure, or if my hair suits my face.  I do not worry about where the money for the next bill is going to come from.  I seldom wonder if what I say might offend or is relevant at all.

At five, I live honestly; authentically.  I am all that I’ll ever be:  undefined, yet confident.  I am alive for a reason.  I feel it.

All I have to do is be patient and wait for life to unfold.

My true self.

Half a life time later, I still remember her:  that girl with such a full future ahead of her.   Such an innocent.

Like a treasure, she is buried within me, holding space.  I look for her in the mirror, but her light no longer shines in my eyes.  I search for her in the clutter that has become my mind, yet her clarity eludes me.  In the eyes of others, I am mother, friend, teacher, lover, and adviser, but not innocence; never my true self.

So, I seek to ignite that sense of self, through the inspiration that is my granddaughter.  Her smiles, her tears, her constant curiosity and unabashed response to life is a reminder:  somewhere in all of us there is a simplicity of being that defies any other reality.  Our true self.