Therapy Poems: 1 - One Year Out Poem by Gloria Kim

Through ancient currents and oceans' hurricanes
I have weathered storms and swells knowing I am held
by thoughtful anchors I have made:
chains of iron, Monitors and Merrimacs.

Like Nemo of the deeps in solitude,
in thick-shelled welded walls
(contact limit hull-to-hull)
I live a studied life -
observe, hypothesize, philosophy.

Burnished smooth in years of practiced wear
my capsule steel can shine in public suns:
off and on, glimmer glitter gleam,
a beckon, like a beacon
to raft-torn splinter-lashed patched-wood castaways.

Cling they would to me! and I become
(never saying no) incongruously litter-bearing -
pseudo-mum with pseudo-kits, looking-glass possums:
we play life when we are really dead.

Seas change, seasons change, comes a red sun -
a redwood red-leaf rose-petal heart-man ruddy roars red,
says,
' Sweetwater sailing, wanna come? (pull tug)
' White-water raft risking life! (pull tug)
' S'matter, are you stuck? Try this! ' (pull tug)
- blast of heat, bit of acid, lil' rope (pull tug)
- then WHACK! metal cracks, mettle fails and I hear
' Peace, be still! Disintegrate! ' And so I do.
Have all the salty oceans been but tears?

Loss.
Lost.
Floundering in the wake of a ship hove to
I reflect: This Is It.
My duty to humanity is done -
four pseudo-daughters weaned who carry on.
I rather want a desert than to drown;
I'd rather dry to death on solid ground.

Is it enough? Or shall I linger on?
Be done and gone, or hope for hope to come?

It is a terrible thing to be alive.