• THE SHIELD

My Thank You Letter to God: By William Kunga

Updated: Nov 22, 2018

POEM :

Dear Impossible Entity, 

( of whom I am the seed , alongside all that exists and all that doesn’t)



Among the innumerable possibilities 

You have created, 

I choose to praise 

the power of "Spoken Word" 

this Thanksgiving season


"Word" is the diplomat of my true self 

to send overseas into the world 

to represent me


prove my innocence to other lands 

articulate and share my ideas


It is truly an amazing gift!


Though, at many times I worry that my diplomat

betrays its motherland 

enslaves itself to the wants of foreign lands 

to please them 

rendering itself 

denationalized


At times like these 

I am embarrassed by my own diplomat and

forbid it to leave its country


Reminiscing on these moments, 

I pity myself for purging my person 

of the gift 

of self-expression


This reclusion of mine is quite ironic 

considering all the words, 

all the unsatisfied impulses, 

I have wished 

I had proclaimed 

in the past


For instance:

-the groundbreaking comment that laid dormant and untapped 

in my mouth during classroom debates,


-the unspoken questions about the complex 

precalculus problems on last night’s homework,


-the silent conversation 

with a potential new best friend at that conference,


-the “yes” responding to the offer 

made by my friend’s mother to buy me that tempting snack 

from the vending machine,


-the wise statement 

that I should have proclaimed to the class 

but instead quietly told my friend 

who then did what I should have done


My shower head bows its head in solidarity 

acknowledging my much too tardy comebacks


(“At least I have a life,” 

I could’ve responded to him, 

five years ago)


These instances occur

because I fear others’ 

opinions 


they pain my soul,

my ego, 

my self-image


But I will overcome them 

with appreciation 

with blessing 

of Spoken Word 


to the point of 

utilizing it

enjoying it

every single second 

of my short life 


just like the boy in my class 

who rightfully takes advantage

of his gift 

of Words, 

but gets scolded for it


Is it odd that I yearn for that scolding?


I fear - while already knowing - that my gift is not as proficient 

while he claims his due 

I am left with my disuse of it 


(much like a body requiring constant use and exercise to perform efficiently) 

evident through my lack of su-su-rety in 

-my words 

-my lack of verbal flair

-my eloquence


From now on, 

everyday 


I will strive harder 
to say what is on my mind 
instead of mentally editing
twenty-five times 
before 
not even saying it

To actually act out all that I 

excessively 

anxiously 

plan out 


in fear of what others may 

or may not 

think of me


thank you 

for letting me 

tell all of that 

to you 


today.


Sincerely, 

William Kunga 

© Melida Rodas 2018   Web Developer / Writer / Multimedia Artist