lyndseydarcangelo.com

Your Subtitle text
Poetry, Column & Blog



"I write to find out what I'm talking about."
~ Edward Albee


Blogging

  I’m basically a tomboy who never grew out of my love for sports, which is probably a good thing since I blog about basketball for EveryJoe.com


Also: 
Check me out on Facebook!



Poetry
   
    I think that poetry is the greatest form of expression.  Sometimes I find it challenging and sometimes I find it so easy. In both cases, I often wonder if I was able to get my point across successfully.
   Readers often interpret poetry in countless ways,  which exposes the beauty of this timeless craft.
Words can mean so many different things to so many different people.
   Below, I've included some poems from various periods of my life.
Each one holds a special place in my heart.


Healing


Let’s not beat around the bush,
so to speak.

I’m weak.
Heart open, mind bleak.
Thoughts reel. So real.
It’s impossible to hide how I feel.
I wear my heart on my sleeve
On my face.
I’ve never tried to deceive
Or pull an about face.
Don’t think I ever could
Ever would.
Want to?
Sometimes I do.
Sometimes it helps, to relieve in itself
The pain.
When I see the sun
I hope for rain.
Then maybe I could feel clean again.
Then maybe I could breathe again.
Then maybe I could eat again.
I may be stuck at the moment …
But it’s just a moment.
A week from now I’ll laugh
At my dramatic, erratic, static feelings.
And I’ll think why?
Why all the tears, fears and misconceptions?
I guess that happens when I lose direction
Or fall off my path.
Somewhere, deep inside my hollow stomach
I know I’ll find
Courage, strength, and peace of mind
And put my faith
In time.
Time heals everything …
at least that’s what they tell me.

Too Datable

Too datable?
That’s debatable
By far.
Depending who you are
I guess
Nevertheless
Let’s assess
The situation.
Attraction exists
Evident in your kiss
And the smile
That forms upon your lips.
Things in common?
Not a problem.
Conversation?
Without hesitation.
Tingles from your touch
Afraid I might
Be feeling too much.
Thoughts reeling.
As I ponder.
Wondering why
I get lost in you sigh.
So where exactly does the issue lie?
I just don’t see . . .
Take a chance on me.
Too datable?
Only if you want me to be.


This Is Me

Seagulls caw, cackle loudly
Breeze blows sand softly
Time ticks along the edge of the shore
I dip ankle deep
Rough rocks beneath my feet
The sky is clear, calm
Any fear once felt
breaks like the waves against the docks
Split in two then fade
I watch this as I wade
further up, to the knees
Icy cold tickles
giving rise to the hair on my arm
A shiver, then an embrace
Filled with fresh new feeling
A breath of something new
Reflection in the water
Shielding my eyes from the sunlight
"This is Me" I shout
Then splash away a smile
I haven't seen in quite some time
Bathing in new blessings
Happy just to be
Oh loving laughter escapes lips
This is me

The Woman In Me

Woman without the man
Expresses who I am
The woman in me
The true identity
In which I see
All that I can be
The simplicity of it all
Lies with in

The W stands for Will
Possessing strength and skill
A yearning to succeed
Hungry ambitions to feed
Conquering all inner fears
Courageous, despite the tears
Never slowing, ever growing
The Will lies with in

The O stands for Out
Like water pouring from its spout
Flowing forcefully from within
Bringing forth a confident grin
A charisma to my walk
Articulation when I talk
Slowly possessing,
ever expressing

The O lies with in

Woman without the man
Reveals who I truly am
I fulfill my own sensations
Beyond all other expectations
Without approval or supervision
I have come to my own decision
The simplicity of it all
Lies with in me

To Be OUT


Release.
Relief from my shoulders.
This boulder that I was able to push aside,
Leaving me stable, with the sensation
That I have nothing to hide.
Freedom.
Free at last.
Looking past the fear in my eyes,
Beyond the tears, without hesitation
I see clear skies.
Pride.
Raising my head high.
The shallow dread I left behind,
I looked inside and saw myself.
I believe in me.
Courage.
Having the strength to stand.
You gave me your hand without thought,
With this gesture you taught,
a life long lesson
I am normal after all.

You

You know who you are
However close or how far
I always wonder
There isn’t much left to say
This is the way
It is.

There’s that saying …
I forget how it goes
No regrets about letting go
Or something
All I know is
I have to just do it
And if the universe sees fit
We’ll meet again.

This isn’t what I planned
It never is
That’s the beauty of forever
I can take pleasure in knowing
That you are still growing and living
And existing and being
So I’m resisting the urge
But smiling at the unspoken words

Because you are always there
As silence in the background
As a passing breeze
As a moonlit room at night
As words on a page
As a familiar song
Always
You.



Awakening


Me
Am
Universe
Shine

The Perfect Song


Sometimes
My heart gets so weak
My breathing slows
My stomach twists
When I hear a certain song
The melody surrounds me
Sweeps over my body
Like a soft afternoon breeze
It soothes my skin
Like mist from the rain
The lyrics evoke emotions
That I never new existed
But always hoped to have

Sometimes
My lips begin to move
My eyes close
My muscles tighten
When I start to sing along

Mother May I?


She tied my hair in ribbons
I untied them and my hair ran wild
She forced a cotton shirt over my head
I took it off and basked naked in the sun
She remembered days of girlie pom-poms
I dribbled a ball aggressively down the court
She often wondered who I was inside
I boasted that I was her only daughter
She cringed at my defiance
I cringed at her reluctance
Yet, somehow we connected
Through years of change when I finally
Wore a dress
She accepted our fate
I accepted our gender
We found a common strand
Which wove a mother and daughter
From two different textures
We knitted a quilt that I now use
When I get cold

My Weakness

Feelings in me are like rushing currents
Rapids that I cannot control
I feel them flow from my heart
Through my veins, to my soul

They seep into my brain, playing with my mind
Weaving thoughts into a confusing web
Of answers I can never find

Most people can let things go
And set their feelings free
But I tread the emotional waters
Until they eventually drown me

I wish I had the courage
The strength to turn them off
But instead of turning hard
I give in and turn soft

They prey on my heart
The center of where my weakness lies
Fill it up till it explodes
Into a fit of joyless cries

My cup suddenly over flows
Leaking out in the form of tears
Leaving me to crumble
In the presence of all my fears

First Impressions


Through a sea of unfamiliar faces
I walk alone
My glances fall on nothing
Is this to be my home?
Being a piece of the puzzle
I somehow fit my place
Similar feelings expressed
Fill up the empty space
To adjust is seemingly hard
To submit is always allowed
Yet . . . I do not give in
I merely blend with the crowd

On Boston


An urge to shout, an open mouth
No words uttered, no sound comes out
A mind full of confusion, a heavy heart
Too many emotions evoke feelings of doubt

A powder blue sky, misplaced clouds
Birds of opportunity soar quickly by
Can I take the flight, spread my arms
A blind less leap, a will to fly

On the edge, leaning far over
Pressure is building, no time to stall
A feeling of exhilaration, no ground beneath my feet
I can fly after all

Untitled


Filled to the core
Feelings cascade out of my body
Like scalding coffee over a cracked mug
What has stained the counter cannot be cleaned
What is left has not enough substance
Just a dark, bitter liquid; tasteless
Something is missing . . .
Sugar perhaps?  Or maybe milk?

I could just settle for some Sweet and Low

Column

    I have opinions on a variety of things (as most people often do).
Once a month, I voice these opinions in a personal column for a gay/lesbian monthly magazine; based in Buffalo, New York. You can read this column below.




  June 2009 Column

Majority rules



    Recently, a straight student at a local high school stumbled upon a copy of my book, The Trouble with Emily Dickinson. She enjoyed the book so much that she decided to pitch it to the advisors of her school book club. The student must have given the book quite a good pitch, because it was chosen out of a slew of other books to be read for the month of May.
    I must admit that I was a bit shocked when I heard the news. The book, after all, is young adult gay and lesbian fiction. And the school, after all, is one of the more conservative schools in Western New York. It’s an oxymoron in the making. Nevertheless, the advisors appreciated the topic of diversity and the book was brought before the school board. Once again I received some shocking news — the book had been approved.
    “Wow,” I thought.  “If this high school could be open to having its students explore GLBT literature, then any school could.”
    My excitement mounted when a parent who organized the purchasing of the books for the students contacted me. She told me that the book club gave the student members the option of opting out of reading a book if it did not interest them or if their parents disapproved of the content. In the end, 25 students signed up to read the book. I was more than happy to facilitate the process of getting the books in time for the students to read them before the end of the school year. The parent liaison told me that the students were also interested in having me attend their discussion meeting once the book was finished in order to sign some books and to answer any burning questions they might have.
    Hyperbole aside, I was bursting with anticipation to meet with the kids who had decided to read and support my book of their own volition. It would give me the opportunity to speak directly to the audience I had intended to reach when I wrote the book in the first place. Speaking at high schools and colleges is something that I am very interested in, so the book club meeting would serve as a trial run of sorts.
    After a couple of weeks, the parent liaison sent me an e-mail inquiring about my availability. She was attending a planning session with some of the students and parents from the book club to go over their questions and to decide when and where we should all meet.
    “Sounds good to me,” I said. “Just let me know what has been decided.”
    A day later, I received another e-mail. And what was eventually decided wasn’t what I was expecting at all. After listening to the questions raised by the students, the majority of parents who attended the planning meeting ultimately decided that there would be no question and answer session. Although they thought the book was well-written and sufficient reading material, they did not like the idea of me answering any direct questions from the students themselves.
    I was stumped. It didn’t make any sense. Why let the students out of the metaphorical shelter to read the book if you are only going to shove them back in afterwards. At first I thought it might have been the questions. But the parent liaison, who was extremely embarrassed by the decision and apologized numerous times, told me that the questions were completely innocent.      The students wanted to know if the story was based on my own experience, how I came up with the characters, etc. There was nothing derogatory or taboo in any of them.
    So what was it? What were some of the parents thinking they were protecting their kids from? Me? Homosexuality? The truth?
    Wouldn’t it be better for a well-adjusted, responsible and positive gay person such as myself to answer their questions rather than to have them look up their answers on Google? It makes no sense to me at all. But then again, it is what it is.
    I was told that a lot of the kids were disappointed and still wanted to have their book signed. The parent liaison also told me that she suspected some of the kids may be gay and were looking to find a supportive ear in me. I offered to still meet with those students whose parents had voted for the book talk any way. I didn’t care if two students showed up. If I could make an impact on those two students then I know I’ve done my part.
    Even though I’m over my disappointment about what happened, some feelings of confusion remain. I guess it’s that whole “two steps forward, one step back” kind of thing. At the very least, the students got to read a book they picked themselves and thoroughly enjoyed regardless of the GLBT subject. It just goes to show that realistic young adult themes transcend everything — including sexuality.

 






 
e-mail me any comments, questions or if you would like to  share a little bit of your dreams and/or aspirations.