In a Bush


There was a man, who’d hide in the bushes

We avoided his house with care

There were rumors galour, and innuendo

About things that went on in there


We walked past quickly, and safely we hoped

Keeping our books covering our chest

Just waiting for him to jump out at us

So scurrying was thought to be best


But no one ever received such a threat

There were never any recorded attacks

None of us girls were ever forced to run

But still the fear ran down our backs


The nearest thing to happen back there

Where the bushes obscured the yard

Was a scratch to our peering faces

When we pressed them into the bushes real hard


But all that was ever to be seen

Was an old lady who kept to herself

Dressed to maintain her tall flowers

With plants and pots on her shelf


Just once in a while a man would appear

As he left in the morning for work

Dressed in a suit and a tie

Never once did he appear to lurk


Yet similar did he appear to the lady

And always were they seen apart

It was eerie the resemblance they had

It was unclear where the rumors did start


Perhaps it was the parents where it began

At their suggestion that something was amiss

When leaving the house for school in the morn

A caution given with a departing kiss


We didn’t know what they thought they knew

And I supposed they really didn’t know much

When I found that the two were the same

That he was really both people as such


At home he was a she with her garden

Dressed comfortably to work in her yard

While going to work was her male appearance

And I supposed that it must have been hard


To suffer all of the opinions and fears

Through rumors and just plain bad fact

While truth and honesty was right there

It was concern and well-wishing they lacked


But sadly he moved out eventually

The heat of suspicions forced him out

As parents they didn’t teach us very well

Over time they began to slander and shout


That he was a pervert, he had a sin

When it was them that were acting so bad

He left in embarrassment and shame

His painted face was really quite sad


Us kids grew to somehow know the truth

And then we became very ashamed

Believing our parents were always right

When it was them that should have been blamed


And I remembered a time when it occurred

Just once was that it happened that I

Met her coming to close up her gate

We looked at each other, fearful eye to eye


And I saw the worry and hesitation

As she quickly smiled and withdrew

And recognized how terribly sad

Was this woman that nobody knew


A sheltered life inside of her garden

With plenty of beauty inside her fences

But hidden and fearful of others opinions

While we claimed to have all our senses


So ashamed was I from that moment on

That I had so judged one so meek

Believing the rumors, fears and lies

When friendship was all she did seek


And although I didn’t really know her at all

I saw through her soul and her fence

Her trappings were built not to assail

But only to aid in her personal defense


Forced to hide and ashamed to greet

Others who deemed her to be wrong

Surrounded by the beauty of her flowers

Hidden and crouched  there for so long


Ironically it was me that found out

That I too was all along quite different

I stepped out of the neighborhood

As they perceived me and soon I went


Because I was really not like them

And I understood all too well

The pain and the suffering he felt

About the facts that he just couldn’t tell


I found a place where I could exist

Happy and proud of who I could be

But never again did I ever seek or find

That scared face that was also of me.


Barbara Blackcinder

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Fantastically Real


I live here in the real

It’s always been a pain

It should be no big deal

But it drives one insane


You’re told to be your own self

But to act like everyone

So you sit up on your own shelf

And pretend that you’re just one


Now I know that it is crazy

To hide away your soul

But the truth is rather hazy

If honesty is your goal


So when I am not in mass view

When I see only me

The reflection is not of you

It’s just my truth I see


Yet I must go on further

If I wish to be more real

For us to get much better

To really see the deal


You must accept that I am

Not going to conform soon

That I am what I am

And not going to cause your ruin


I will then go my way

And you’ll go gladly yours

And when we meet some day

We’ll laugh at all our sores


Both of us so altered

As we part this time

The truth no longer sheltered

So much better do we rhyme


Barbara Blackcinder

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A Visit To The Other Sides


A met a boy in a bar that was

Known to accept those who are gay

And it harkened me back it seems

To the past and a particular day


I didn’t know then what I know now

About the sexual appetites that we all have

We only picked on those of us different

Picking off scabs while not using a salve


Although I didn’t know it then

Perhaps he did not know it either

What it would take to make him smile

To make him into a heavy breather


I for sure knew that I liked girls

Not that I had made any passes

I was caught making stupid sayings

Something about not wearing glasses


And I thought when I saw him then

About what his life might have been

Although there was nothing about him

His differences by me were not seen


I wasn’t in the same boat that he sailed

I was perhaps in my own lonesome sea

Worried about myself all the time

And what the future would bring upon me


So distant was I and he seemed a nice guy

But our paths never really collided

My understanding then was so incomplete

As I thought life was only two-sided


I know now my great ignorance

As I see that there is many a route

And many ways to travel the distance

All something that one could proudly tout


And so it’s another soul that I missed

A person who could have understood

That acceptance is the primary task

Believing in others the ultimate good


Later I understood that the boy had died

In an explosion filled with pure hate

I hoped that someday acceptance could be

But for him and many others it was too late


Barbara Blackcinder

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A Star Is Born


A star is born, or has emerged

Slipped from a cocoon into our world

Raking in millions along with our admiration

And with them our lives are soon twirled


We set them up as something special

Their lives skyrocket them to fame

And soon whether in pictures or music

Everyone knows of their fame


But years pass by and attention is lost

We remember, but they slip away

They fade into their own special lives

And settle into living day to day


That’s not to say that their lives

Stop being in so many ways different

Nothing at all like what we do

Just an alternate rendition of rent


But they must revert to being themselves

Another person who must carry on

To live past our accolades and fame

With attributes to go beyond


No one escapes themselves with life

We all reconcile what we’ve done

Our shining moments always end

And we must settle to being just one


Barbara Blackcinder

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We say forever, non-ending they say

But that is a dream, it passes away

Like the tree that was forever there

After a century or so, it too goes bare


It seems that forever is a myth or a dream

Nothing lasts forever, or so it would seem

Because today we know of the universe

And even that has death as a curse


Seemingly forever in billions of years

It’s death is far beyond our tears

Just as the old tree outlives us too

We are but a drop of morning dew


Barbara Blackcinder

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My Own Slice


Just give me a piece, a piece of my life

where I can be happy, as pleased as can be

Not so very much, a place without strife

with nothing to distract, a place just for me


it has nothing to do with being alone

there is nothing further from my wish

just a place where I can dictate my life

make up my life without having to insist


No changes to put before anyone else

not a thing to debate or decide with you

with no reflection needed for peace

no decisions but to decide what to do


So much of life is a choice that’s dictated

picked by fear of alienation or outcast

chosen by committee and administrated

fearing that decision that won’t ever last


So what do you get when you decide

The choice might well have been yours

But no matter who’s it was in the end

There are far too many closed doors


Barbara Blackcinder

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Politics In a Can


Here it comes in a sealed can

Open it up and up pops a man

Couldn’t it be a woman too

Not so likely is really true


But what kind of fizzle do you see

Nothing good it appears to me

That it must be able to fit in this

Our supply system must be amiss


We pick from a pair of cans so gassy

Should be some intelligent lassy

Surely good enough to choose

With only one side, surely you lose


Barbara Blackcinder

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