In Praise of Praise: Poem 9

Not a participation trophy fan, still, I believe in praise–fair props.

Praise the days, praise the nights, praise the accident that is us,

Our planet, our time, our space, our separate solitary worlds,

together and apart, unable to perceive reality let alone truth,

less a word than a gurgling gut full of sense and the sensible.

 

We commend, we lionize, we sing songs to the laudable, those

who earn their accolades in tributes, panegyrics and eulogies.

But who among us have not suffered the humiliating red ribbon 

Or the diagnosis despite healthy choices, good living, and grace?

Bits of luck, shame, misfortune, health and love–praise chaos.

 

Through the singeing piss soaked stain of soiled panties, sobbing,

Sitting beside the third grade boy crush and plum of my notice,

Shame burns indelibly, but the blush of recognition, heart-pump pride

in mastering a job well done, earned in doubt and fear, curtained hope,

A+, raise, high 5, and fist bump, all winking nod to gratitude’s birthright.

Today I am not…

  
1. Dying of cancer

2. A refugee

3. Mourning the loss of a loved one

4. Unemployed

5. Incapacitated by illness or loss of limb

6. Alone

7. Childless

8. Parent-less

9. Abandoned

10. Living in a war-torn country

11. In danger of losing the safety of shelter

12. Hungry

13. Unloved

14. Empty

15. Sensorily impaired

16. Born to the hordes of un- and under-privileged

17. Devoid of wonder

18. Unable to experience beauty

19. Unable to create or feel

20. Under threat of destruction by weather, natural disaster, aliens, calamity or death by natural causes.

…and so, I have already won the lottery.