Freedom to Speak

By Asche Keegan

I am my own person,

Fiercely opinionated and fiercely independent.

But my family tells me,

“Sometimes you just have to go along with it;

It’s safe.”

Safe.

            Safe.

                        Safe.

So in public,

I bow my head.

I bite my tongue.

I nod along, and

I write what

I don’t believe.

But I’m tired of staying safe.

You can not lasso my language
And corral me into a corner.

A match can light a fire;

A fire can light a forest;

And the next thing you know all of California is

Burning, 

Burning,

 Burning

With the whirlwind of words I’m spitting out.
For my tongue is my mace; my pen is my sword.

You can not take my weapons away

Because you disagree with what I say.

I’ll gather up others who believe the same,

And I will tell them we aren’t secret messages to be

Rolled up,

Bottled up,

And cast away to sea.

We will melt the bars that entrap us

With the ferocious heat of our words.

We will torch the gags and straitjackets‒‒

Burn all the symbols of the world that hated us.

And when we stand above the carnage of a world aflame,

Word by word, we’ll build another just the same. 

“Surf”

By Asche Keegan

I hold fast a heart of sand.
          It crumbles in the sun
      And firms against the waves.
                 Splashing back and forth between two extremes
    And when searching for a soul to save,
Most are looking for the sun
     As a fleeting retreat to mark footprints into.
           My heart burns warmer than it seems

         Yet when times are hard, I harden too.
      Withdrawing into a compact form
                  Your feet bounce off me, as on dry land.
              It takes a special soul to dig
For a shell they don't know is there.
       But when the waves fall back, I’ll crumble again
                        Because I hold fast a heart of sand.