No Resolutions for 2021

Photo by Oleg Zaicev on Pexels.com

Let’s not talk about last year.

We all know.

What can we do with the unknown of this year? Normally we’d be setting resolutions, making plans, starting new habits and routines. But we’ve all learned from the year past that our entire lives can be upended in a moment.

For me, personally, I am deciding to “build.” I had a massive amount of personal momentum last year, and I want to build on it. I want to keep looking for publishers for my work, I want to continue writing, I want to strengthen my career, I want to keep making connections with people to grow my community and friendships.

If I focus on building from the foundation I have set instead of setting big goals or resolutions, it gives me the flexibility to move forward at various paces, despite whatever challenges come.

Meaning and purpose are what we make of it! I hope we can build together. Happy New Year!

12-25-20, a poem

On this eve when we’re looking up

to the sky

for stars to guide us,

or angels to sing to us,

or bells in church towers

to ring clear,


Take a moment to look down

at the soil beneath you,

stand still

feeling the earth turning.

Keep your head in the clouds

where your holiday wishes reside,

and your feet planted

here in the world where

we all live together.


Yes, even after the tragedy

of a year

wasted on that which is ill,

those who still live

are all here together,

our next breath

the most precious gift of the season.

Follow my poetry Tiktok!

Thanks to everyone who has been reading and liking my poems! I consider poetry my art, and to have people who are willing to read it and let me know they enjoyed it is incredibly meaningful to me. If you’re on tiktok and want to see/hear more poetry (and some of my attempts at being funny) you can find me @glory_thepoet. My tiktok is body-positive, LGBTQ+ friendly (I recently came out as bi, so no longer disguising myself as an ally, I’m out!), anti-racism, and pro-mental health. I will have a Christmas poem ready soon to post here and on tiktok. Happy Holidays to everyone, whoever you are and however you celebrate!

Perspective (a poem)

I used to be the person

to see the glass as

half-full.

But I don’t remember

what it was like to be her

anymore.

I never really became

the person to see the glass as

half-empty

either.

Instead, I just see

half a glass of water

with the potential to remain statically

half-filled,

the potential to be drained dry,

the potential for the fragile exterior

to be shattered,

the potential to be filled to the brim,

or the potentional to be abudantly

overflowing.

With the glass in my hand,

I’ll decide

what comes next.

Invisible (a poem)

(inspired by Agoraphobic by Corpse)

Cover all the mirrors

and hide from the horde

because I can still see myself reflected in their eyes,

and I just can’t bear it. 

I don’t understand this skin I’m in

or the veins pulsing beneath.

So I surround myself with haunts

because I see through the ghosts

and they can’t see me.

Maybe it’s because I am one of them,

part of the family?

Families scream at each other,

and these phantoms wail.

But there’s an ache the accompanies the role

of Invisible Man.

Unfettered (a poem)

What is life unappreciated?

Do not hand me a box

and tell me to fold my joy up neatly

and place it inside.

Let me celebrate unfettered.

The human life, 

the human body

is too beautiful

not to shout from the rooftops.

Instead I will lift myself up

standing on no one’s shoulders but my own,

and in my rising

I would like to bring you with me.

The Middle Place (a poem)

The middle place is

where the old self has died

and lies cold

staring up at you with empty eyes.

The middle place is

where the new self has not yet

been birthed

ready to roam the earth.

The middle place is

where the ghost of you

floats unseen with nowhere to go.

The middle place is

where transformation can

only happen in solitude

because the isolation of death

propels you forward,

deparate to pursue new life.

Better (a poem)

Something agitated has quieted within me.

Life can rip you up

and leave you with ribbons that don’t 

weave

or tie?

back together

the right way.

But there is no right,

I don’t think.

They just ache to be together.

So I let the ribbons fall down

wherever they wanted to.

Then the churning turmoil

soothed and cooled.

Post-Election Poem

Being good and being nice are not the same.

One enacts and pursues, the other performs.

Being a peacemaker and being a peacekeeper are not the same.

One stirs up and creates, the other lies still.

Who is it that you think you are?