Changes

Sweet Sixteen in 1994, what a cosmic joke
I was a girl in worlds that hated my existence
Especially two white-pride boys, top of school society
We all went to school together, then vo-tech
I was far more intelligent, strike one for me
A girl who didn’t fall for their charm, strike two
Semitic in a world of Aryans, strike three
The first two strikes were easily evaded
But the last one nearly cost me my life twice
 
Sixteen and studying to be a chef
Girl in a man’s world, already despised
Bad enough I saw them in academics
We shared bus rides and a long hall-walk
Taunting me as I walked ahead, unable to run
My pride and school rules forbade it.
 
“Jew, Jew, look at you, dirty Jew
One day we are going to do to you
What Hilter didn’t get a chance to.”  
Troy Sigfried and Steve Bauer followed me
Every day, five days a week, except for holidays
Off the bus, down the long hall, straight to my class
 
They in Metallica tees, shades and ripped jeans
Combat boots, bandanas and Dixie flags
Blond hair, black hair, blue eyes filled with hate
Strolling not a care in the word behind me
I was dressed in chef’s black’n whites
Dark curls hidden under a baker’s hat
Boots on my feet, no make up, stoic
With these two Neo-Nazis so close
My chef instructor at the door, hearing every word.  
 
Three weeks I suffered, Monday thru Friday
21 days my chef, the one I was supposed to trust
Listened and scolded but did nothing more
“Goldstein, I hear them, but my hands are tied.”
In 1994 this was not considered a hate crime
Boys just being boys, just ignore the little shits
 
 
On the 22nd day, a Monday, they got too close
That Monday, I could feel their breath on my neck
“Dirty Jew, watch out we’re coming for you..
You BITCH, stupid Jewish whore-bitch, you broke my nose!”
 
I was barely four inches over five feet barefoot
But I always punched above my weight
Steve got too close, so my fist smashed into his face
As I got ready to swing again, my chef yelled
“Goldstein, you’re suspended! Bauer, to the nurse!”  
 
I looked up at my chef, this man I’d been taught to trust
He was to be my chef for three years, day in and out
My heart dropped, chills ran down my spine as I realized
He was tall, he had blue eyes, he was German, too.  
 
I got suspended for a week, Bauer had to apologize  
The minute it was over, he glared at me, smirking
“Jew, you’ve only made it worse for yourself.”  
How true his words were, my life nightmarish
Pennies thrown at me daily to start Jewish parades
They tried to push me off moving school buses
Jews weren’t allowed on the bus, they all said
Swastikas in my driveway, mailbox run over
Demonstrating they could do whatever they liked
Every school day they followed me the rest of the year
Their words in cadence with my defiant footsteps
 
I fought them violently every chance I could get
But never in front of my chef, I needed to impress him
He was my ticket to my dream of becoming a chef
I had to prove women were men’s equal in the kitchen
Three years he taught me, never spoke about that day  
 
In the end, I graduated, working for a high class chef
Only three students had such coveted positions
I was also accepted to culinary school, to start in fall
“Goldstein,you did good. I’m proud of you and I’m sorry.”  
Two years too late, my trust never quite as complete
 
In cooking school, I learned two important lessons
Beyond how to measure, saute, braise and stew
One: I had to fight twice as hard for a solitary chance
Two: no one would ever take care of me..except me.

The perfect childhood was one that I lived
Were the love given was never taken away
Even though my years of rebellion
Where I hurt my parent's sensibilities
When I bucked the trend of normality
I was smoking pot and drinking beer
Sex became usury, the more easy I got
Didn't know if I was straight Bi or queer
Experimentation became a necessary evil
I rejected their god, the bible and church
My prison style tattoos done for shock value
Never been to prison though picked up from jail
An underage DUI laid bare on my jacket
Boyfriends came and went girl friends many
It was like I was courting their displeasure
Yet through it all, there were no raised voices
No domestic abuse, dad was not built this way
Mom, forever the optimist, shit happens
Children of the sixties, love and flowers
This hippie-trippy romance was perfection
Their love for each other like a house on fire
Their love could not be put out or extinguished
I question my years of rebellion
What was I really railing against
They showed me nothing but love
Every day they told me they loved me
Their actions spoke louder than words
I grew up to rebel against loving,
Loyalty, parents who refused to walk away
For Texas parent violence is normality
They never lifted their hands in anger
The perfect family, the perfect parents
Took me time for the realization to kick in
My rebellion was one of my own making
It was personal and purely internal
Peer pressure from abused teens
Real and many drama queens
Sobered I could see through it
And when the mist cleared, my head fog
Was gone they were still there loving me
I now understand I see them as they are
Still living and loving like teenagers
They are so sweet together, so cute
My hippy-dippy parents with a love absolute
TRhis is a tribute to my mom and dad
The best parents I could have had
I love you both

I had a nightmare last night.
I got into a fight over a bet and...
I stabbed my best friend Ben.
I quickly ran into my car and drove off.
I was driving so fast out of fear,
I hit a pregnant woman crossing the road.
I heard her loud screams but...
I didn't wait.
I only drove faster.
I eventually stopped to catch my breath.
I then picked up a random girl on the road.
I ended up in her place and we made love.
"Ouch" My head hurts so bad,
What a messed up dream.
Thank God am awake.
Wait?!... where is this place?...
Why is there blood on my shirt?!...
Shit! The random girl from my dream just walked in.
Was my nightmare....
Real?
Did I have too many bottles last night?
Or am I still dreaming?...
Oh God,
Someone, anyone...
Please wake me up.

For in a time, when everywhere,
the child I was took comfort in
the dangers stalking, hunting us,
my kind, at every turn it chose.
Was where I found a solace in
the tribal rites, lord of the flies,
as bitter herbs I passive ate
because my hunger was so great.

Picked for my lack of size and years,
the tirade with the herbs which had
beleaguered spirit, start to trust
the pain one day would turn the tide.
Approval from humiliate
increase in skill & strength & size
to show the path on which I’d walk.
In this awakening, I felt
the apex sun upon my face,
and joy within my beating heart.
Uplifted from the quiet tone
of sorrow I had always known,
as being one, and of the same.

It started then as I began
to know the entity of love,
whose voice’s lift spoke to my mind.
Within my very soul was God,
whose teachings opened me to pray
as self is opened like a seed.
As it would grow then split again,
while spilling forth more joy until
I realized was not the same,
it was the answer to a prayer.




#KahlilGibran

NaPoGloPoWriMo 2019

My interpretation is also based on the harsh realities of my early youth, before and up to the realization of my spirituality and faith.

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I didn’t know about politics or the status quo,
I didn’t understand the right versus the left,
All I knew were images shown on the news
Until the war hit close to home

I had never seen so many burning buses
I had never seen so many men somber
I had never seen so many women crying
I had never seen so much blood like that

I had never heard bullets whiz by like that
I had never felt tanks roll by the boulevard
Shaking the streets and passageways
And deafening blasts that stun the soul

I had never seen men on the streets like that
Brains splattered on the pavement
Entrails displayed for all to see
I had never seen eyes like that

But when you’re only eight years old
The world is difficult to understand
For there is no simple explanation
When innocence slips away just like that