The Mark

(I'm trying to get more comfortable with sharing what I write, just for the act of exposing - of being able to. And I hope to be able to get involved with the spoken art/writing scene that's going on in Halifax next year - so I'll start small...in a way, cause making my words available on the internet isn't exactly small, but it's a lot less intimidating since I'm not there face to face. So if you, whoever you are, were about to read this - there's also another option and you can hear it instead. Just go to this site and click on 'The Mark'. ReverbNation (I know I'm not a musician, which is what this is for - but it's the first site I found where I could upload voice recordings :D))

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Marked for greatness…
I am, I was.
Marked for greatness.
Revealed in a watery world
A man, new to me,
His existence momentary
Enters my realm and says
‘Marked for greatness’.

But they stole it from me,
Cut it out
…under the guise of health
Safety.
As a child I hated this mark –
Ugly, blatant, there
Always, ceaselessly
There.

And then one day, or
Over a course of many
It changed, something
Changed.
I changed, and no longer
there, but loved – a sign, a mark
to be cherished
A mark of greatness.

Those were the words
How did he know, who, what
Gave him the power?
But I believed - he held it
Generations, generations of
Belief, Lore, Superstition
So different from my own
But I believed - he held it.

And for me – this mark
This ugly, blatant, there
Mark became beautiful
It represented something
A chance that went beyond me
Beyond what I ever thought
Would hold me
Back.

Generations, generations of
Myself.
A self I’ve never known
Never been able to hold onto.
Darkness, like the night sky
Like the rich soil that allows life
Darkness, that has mingled with the dark
And overcome.

The dark that sheds, that tears
Life, hope, what should be
What isn’t.
Mixes with the dark that
Perseveres
Holds on.
This, placed, emblazoned on my
Back. A reminder. A seal.

Surrounded, tan, pale skin that
Separates me
Except for this, this mark
This sign of greatness.
A gift that’s traveled through my blood
Through my ancestors,
Through their struggle
Through their darkness

And despite the diffusion of blood
Despite the lightness that envelopes me
This one strong, raised mark – darkness
Remains.
No…remained.
They stole it from me.
Cut it out.
…under the guise of health.

And what remains?
Pulled, taut skin
Lighter than the lightness that
Envelopes me.
What they said would be a line
Because of one who should have known better
Is much more.
But even so – it fades, has faded so it’s almost nothing.

Where once was a sign, a pledge, a promise
Almost nothing.
Nothing, almost.
And what does this say
What now do I say…
Bestowed upon me
Taken from me
With a cool sharp blade.

Under cold, hard light.
With a cool sharp blade.
They stole it from me.
Cut it out
…under the guise of health.
That which was in my blood
Hidden in the keys that made
What I am.

Can that which is truly hidden
Truly kept
Safe
Ever be removed?
Or – is it still there?
This kernel, this truth, this design
Of greatness.
Given

To me,
Given.
Now the world can not see
When my skin is bare
That which I tried, as a child
To hide
Because of shame,
The difference

That which I tried to hide
Is hidden, lost forever
To eyes
To touch
But only to that.
That which was inside,
A part
Cut out

But
Not stolen.
Never
Stolen
Unless I allow myself
To be the thief.
For fear, an easy excuse to deny
The power

Power of an old man’s words
In a watery realm
Of normalcy
Power of a mark that entered the world
With me
But will not leave it
For eyes to see
For flesh to touch

Now rotted somewhere
Now nothing more
But dust
What I will one day be.
This mark, which was
always there
and is
still always there,

Of Greatness.