I worked with Randy Gener back in his time at TCG, and like so many of us now, I am wishing him a speedy recovery from the brutal attack this Thursday. It seems this terrible act may have been a hate crime, and there is a candlelight vigil for Randy tomorrow night that I cannot attend. This poem is my candle lit for his speedy recovery, and towards the day these horrific acts of violence are a thing of the past. There is also a youcaring.com page to help raise funds for his medical expenses.
A Cup of Stars
A poem for Randy Gener’s vigil in hopes of his speedy recovery
This is the ugliness of the world
A man beaten down on the streets of his home
Because of how he looked, or how he loved,
Or because
The ugliness of the world is a single face,
A mask anyone can wear
And if you feel weak, it will give you force
(but not strength)
And if you feel confused, it will give you clarity
(but not understanding)
And if you feel lost, it will find you enemies,
It will arm you with weapons and reasons,
(but not peace)
And because
The ugliness of the world is very old
The mask is worn smooth, it slips on easy
And you are not alone when you wear a single face
And maybe this is the face of your fathers–
So pure, unbroken, clean, simple and familiar–
You can mistake that mask for how you really look,
How you truly love
And so
You find yourself on the streets of someone’s home
and take your force and your clarity,
your weapons and your reasons
and with your ancient face break them against his cup of stars.
His cup of stars
(more synapses in the mind than stars in the galaxy)
cracks but does not shatter,
does not spill all the plays, all the places
his words and travels brought to us to say,
see! See,
This is the beauty of the world.
This is the beauty of the world
to break against the single mask and not be broken,
to pass your cup of stars around to the thirsty,
to all who have forgotten how to look, how to love,
to help them drink strength, understanding, peace.
The beauty of the world is all these faces
gathered in vigil on the streets of someone’s home,
all these candles lit, as if the night in sympathy
had lent us its stars;
all these voices, lifted in a hushed wish,
get well soon;
it is messy, mixed, difficult, complex and unexpected,
it is what you wrote about and will write about,
the beauty of all these faces
and our prayer that one day soon
each of us and all of us
will take off that ancient mask
and look at all this love.
Corinna Schulenburg 