Colleen Machut is a teacher and a writer from Sheboygan, WI. She lives there with her husband, Trent, and their son, Desmond. Colleen and Trent write and perform songs in the lakeshore area of Wisconsin. Colleen has poems published or forthcoming in Impspired, Open Skies Quarterly Edition 1, Open Skies Quarterly Edition 3, Jalmurra, Creation and the Cosmos Anthology, Anxious Times Magazine, and CORE: Dance Poems Volume III.
Regardless of You
You are the rogue one; the brave - Dismissing society's lines As color-by- number nonsense Meant to inhibit, define, and repress. You are the life breath; The breaker of rules - The train that souls hop To escape to far away places; Free of the mundane. You are the one, wise beyond the lines - Uninhibited. You are the insightful one, Who channels the universe And swirls the stars; Who knows things beyond knowing And fills hearts With sparkles. The one who dives Into piles of leaves On a magic night In the middle of the street. You are the one Consumed by self-love - Who puts himself before And holds himself above; Who binds with lines And then betrays When whims change From day to day - Whose desires take first place. Even time is a line untraced As you smile inside and watch them wait, Pretending not to manipulate. Vagabond Prophet Narcissist I have called you all of these. But you never listened long enough To know what to call me. You may call me: The asker of why's; The writer of rhymes; The lighter of fires - The one who is willing to cry Every time; Who filters the lines And, when wise, draws outside. A believer that true love Comes with bonds, but not chains, And the shore can be more Than a soft landing place - That I can swirl my own stars, Find my own sparkles, Fill my own heart; That one should listen more than speak And share love outward unconditionally. Regardless of you, this is what I believe. Regardless of you, this is me.
A Poem Instead
He leaves a residue in my mind- Acidic, which gnaws And frays every sensible neural pathway Until I am a mess of tangled live wire, Spitting and hissing for no reason at all; A spiral-eyed asylum cat, Claw-slicing walls. This residue is venom; The antithesis of every drug Meant to numb Or equalize; Meant to calm or synchronize. It leaves me A foolish, pathetic, disheveled she-devil, Born to be ashamed, Trying not to speak his name - Feigning hate. A token ask Spurs cyclones Of times past; Emotions refract Beneath stoic glass. Eye-glance turns to avalanche. Suddenly I'm dangling on a string Of fabricated summoning. Numbers relentless, I send a simple sentence And invite endless entrance Into my mind. In morning flutter-light, Wisdom wins, But in the curse of dreams His voice returns again… Because I don't have the convenience Of a set of reasons To disqualify sins And resolve deserved pain; And so, after years, It remains.
Philosophy of Convenience
Yours is a philosophy of convenience. You justify each blemish And fabricate each reason Based on nothing more Than a shiny metaphor. You aspire in your philosophy To make every act acceptable And everyone susceptible To the enzymes of your spectacle. You stroll through my vicinity, Bloated with masculinity- Measuring the salinity Of my tears of vulnerability. Are you oblivious? Isn't it obvious? Do you lack the intelligence to see the relevance Of broken trust between us… Or does your salutation Reek of manipulation… Your addiction to attention Makes me question your intention. Regardless, I must rearrange- Claim the name I never changed. I am enough In and of myself. And someday I won't have to hate To separate my fate from you. Your treason Won't be the reason Why I cry. My endeavors will be forever Independent of yours, And I’ll forfeit your endorsement Without scorn. I'll reject your reasons, Spin my own seasons- And omit all leniency toward your convenience.