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# Susitna Writer's Voice--A Time to Get Angry, by Ellen Thea
- URL: https://ktna.org/susitna-writers-voice-a-time-to-get-angry-by-ellen-thea/
- Published: 2014-09-15T08:00:00.000Z
- Updated: 2017-10-23T06:32:14.000Z
- Description: In this poem, Talkeetna performance poet Ellen Thea writes about making change in one’s life.
- Author: KTNA Staff
- Tags: Susitna Writer's Voice, #wp, #wp-post, #Import 2026-07-22 01:28

![97H13_thea#1](https://ktna.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/97H13_thea1.jpg)

In this poem, Talkeetna performance poet Ellen Thea

writes about making change in one’s life.
  
  
<https://ktna.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Ellen-Thea-Time-to-Get-Angry-9-14-14.mp3>

  
It’s time to get angry

But the right usage of anger

The realization that the jailer  
is the jailed

When the deadends  
in the labryinth  
run back  
to the same source

When the river demands  
the edge of the cliff

When facsimile and metaphor  
are not enough,  
to live the presence  
of life,  
and not the shadows,  
to embrace, swallow  
the firelight dancers  
and leave the friggin’ cave,  
shouting from the depths  
of soul and rooftops

Be free and fall,  
wings spread wide,  
laughing,  
as the hilarious magic  
takes hold

It is the end of things,  
the usual way,  
the safe way can kill as easily  
as any other, a deeper danger  
exists there, the death is more  
insidious and permanent

One day all the excuses  
are no longer an excuse

Danger exists,  
certainly

But which death shall you choose,  
safely timid, the victim  
of circumstances, the job, money,  
the kids, the guy or the girl or the  
lack thereof, my mother, my father,  
my sister, uncle, school,  
government, or do I choose the  
bright bold, Mata Hari, Coyote,  
that double agent, surprising  
you into yourself

There’s only one direction this  
journey takes.

We slitheryslide through  
mother’s legs (or pulled unceremoniously) and  
begin our disintegration  
toward enlightenment

How utterly ridiculous is that

The world disrupts around us  
This cakewalk ain’t no piece  
of easy cake, pie in the face

And then there is the distraction  
of seemingly vaster matters  
than my own simple turmoil  
and truth seeking

Yet I am the world  
you are the world

And when that doorway closes,  
and you have sat, seemingly safe,  
not edging out toward so-called  
danger, the test,to love your  
self first, at the frenetic  
moment of death’s visit,that  
inevitable face to face chat,  
is misery the memory to crave,  
to cherish

Or is it that I have lived, I have chosen  
this to embrace, I ate that  
damn apple, with delight,  
with abandon,without restraint  
and didn’t regret the knowing,  
the discovery

Bliss is not ignorance  
wisdom is bliss  
and wisdom is whatever road is taken,  
bumps and warts and all

New joy rising, bubbling, undulating,  
what next–

I mean, rabbits may fly out  
my ass, or pigs with wings,  
kaleidoscopic joy

Because  
why suffer

Suffering can come soon enough  
misery always loves our company  
and all the world offers is the  
peddling of illusion

Because a frog is still a frog  
the magic is in the kiss itself  
and flies can taste so sweetly divine  
when you give the moon permission

Anything can happen  
the oracle whispered,  
as long as you live, alive,  
because, be known,  
the shell can be dead  
and there are many zombies  
roaming about

Touch your dream  
and breathe the Holy Grail