Letting the air out...

When I first fell upon Nikki's collection of poems Bicycles: Love poems [bicycles: because love requires trust and balance] at the beginning of 2011 and quoted many a thing that touched me, there was still a splinter in my heart that made my immediate love of this poem that was oh so apt at the time, too difficult to reveal. Even the most wholehearted amongst us can weary & become wary of being always vulnerable when we can find no safe haven. So now, with some time, distance and the healing they bring, here's one of my favorite pieces in Bicycles. Even so far removed, some phrases still make my breath catch with their unassuming wisdom in the matter-of-fact admission of and unwillingness to hide the aching of disappointment. The words, I suppose, are timeless, because such wounds surely will come again - Thanks Nikki.

Here's to being wholehearted and having the courage to dare to keep living and loving anyway...

Letting the air out (of my tires) ~Nikki Giovanni


This is not
a country song

I am not
a dixie chick

There is no
creek rising

There is no
moon weeping blood

No hound dog baying

No little old man
at first light
up to catch a speckled trout

I don't have
a pickup truck

I don't do
roadkill

My hair isn't "big"

There's no breast implant

I don't talk
through my nose
or have an American flag
tattoo

This is more pitiful
than Polly
wanting a cracker

Or eggs that won't sunny-side up

Sadder than grits
that won't boil

Or chicken wings
that stick to the skillet

This is me
Letting the air out of my tires

Not loosening the lug nuts

Not taking my spinners off

Certainly not being so rude
as slashing these tires
that have hardly been
properly ridden

Just me gently allowing
the air to escape
but saving that good rubber

Just me bent and crying
admitting the truth

We're not going anywhere

Thank God
for Monday Night 
Football