Escape
It begins to
Come into focus.
The incessant quest
For acceptance.
The need to be
Part of the in group.
The endless judgments
And expectations.
The need to
Cater to others.
The sacrifice
Of self.
The urge to
Escape from it.
Subsequent
How that one brief
Moment has impacted
Everything, each
Subsequent occasion,
A constant conflict
Between what is and
What might have been,
Unfinished stories
Calling from another
Place. Staring into
The distance, another
Infinite day of
Wistful speculation,
A story rewritten but
Never completed.
Goodnight
He waited many minutes before
Clicking the send button.
She was both surprised and elated
When the message arrived.
They met in a small restaurant,
So many memories.
They bid each other a fond
Goodnight.
Genuine Effort
I could write
The most eloquent
Speech, carefully
Enumerating every single
Exhaustively reviewed
And edited detail,
Backing up facts with
Copious evidence,
A genuine effort to
Explain my point of view,
Or simply speak from
The heart, sharing
What I feel inside,
And it wouldn’t matter.
What to Do
Though she would never admit it,
She didn’t care much for
Herself and for so long
Had been told she didn’t matter
That she gave her life
Over to something,
Someone else who
Would tell her what to do,
When to do it,
How to do it,
No questions, no comments,
Complete conformity.
Thought traded for comfort.
Mind and will atrophying.
Extravagant Display
The slightest shift in tenor
Presages the impending
Barrage of vitriol and virulence
Spewed upon all in the vicinity.
Unblinking, staring at their
Immaculate shoes, the guests pretend
Nothing out of the ordinary
Is happening, not here.
Carefully selected finery,
Arranged extravagant display,
A mesmerizing feast for
Some other time and place.
Window
Getting out of her
Car, she walks slowly
Toward the building
Where she and her
Many brothers and sisters
Grew up in an apartment
Far too small for
Even two people.
She remembers these
Sidewalks, their cracks
And buckles, the chalk
Drawings she and her
Sisters would make,
Washed away by the
First rain, the endless
Cast of characters just
Trying to make it in
A world of hard edges.
She looks up at the
Window that was her room,
Wonders who lives there
Now and vows to help
Them make it out too.
Nonetheless
Having been what
Other people call shy
For most of her life,
Thoughtfully observing
The world without the
Hindrance of an
Endlessly spewing mouth,
She sees things that
Others don’t and
Takes it upon herself
To be the chronicler
Of the unnoticed,
The people and occurrences
Existing in quiet obscurity,
Deserving attention
Nonetheless.
Despots
When all that matters
Is tearing down
A safety net,
Dismantling vital
Institutions,
Installing a regime
That solely serves
The upper echelon,
Then it doesn’t
Mean anything when
They lie about what
Their initiatives
Will really do
To regular people,
How their cuts
Obscenely damage the
Ability of working class
People to thrive,
For democracy to function,
That the real agenda
Is to redistribute the
Wealth to a few
Lewdly engorged despots,
Mansions re-gilded in
Gold many times over.
Stop Me
Stop me
If you’ve
Heard
This one.
Begin story.
Stop.
I’ve heard it.
Hurt feelings.
Not as easy as
It seemed.
Integral
He’s made more money
Than he ever thought
Possible, built an
Empire that keeps
Growing at an outstanding
Pace, year after year,
The clear leader in
His field. He’s asked
To speak to business
Groups all over the world
And is always amazed at
The hush that falls over
The room when he describes
How well he pays his
Employees and how integral
They are to his success.
Hoarders
Humanity-choked street,
Bodies shoulder to shoulder
Hurrying somewhere.
Traffic at a standstill,
Automobiles competing with
Animals and carts.
A small stall
Halfway in the gutter,
Selling sugarcane juice.
Decaying buildings,
Edges smeared
By neglect.
An ancient woman
Sits on the ground,
Hand outstretched.
Smoke, dirt, filth
Permeate the air,
A film of misery.
The hoarders make
Sure nothing
Ever changes.
Envy
There are stories
From long ago,
When his family lived
In the old country
And enjoyed vast
Land holdings,
Prosperous mills
That produced vast
Quantities of goods,
A lavish home on
A sprawling estate,
The envy of everyone,
All of it taken
From them in an instant,
A camera capturing
A moment in time,
Planting seeds of
Rage and discord,
Lashing out at the
Thieves that came
In the night and
Separated them from
Their supremacy.
Impress
A small stream gurgled through
A verdant meadow under the
Content gaze of a cerulean sky.
A small boy played an improvised
Game alongside the rivulet,
Giggling with unselfconscious glee.
A small mind polluted the water to
Feed his desolation and impress his
Name upon another public building.
Disorderly
Accustomed to
Doing
Whatever the want
Whenever they
Want to,
For whatever reason,
With absolute
Impunity,
No fear of
Retribution.
Bullies
Wearing
The right outfit,
Preying on
The vulnerable,
Enforcing the
Status quo,
Having a
Few laughs,
Disorderly.
Contained
They had the most superficial of
Relationships where they talked about
Mundane topics and tiptoed around everything
Else. Stifling whiffs of decay and disease
Barely contained by clattering lid.
In the name of civility they forgot to relate and
Share what was really going on, acknowledge the
Sleeping giant, the misunderstandings and
Resulting rancor that formed the glacier.
Small talk prevailed, reality restrained.
Aftermath
She sits in a comfortable room
Surrounded by trappings of
Carefully contrived gaiety,
A union of convenience
Slowly dissolving in a
Pricey crystal wine glass.
Memories untended,
Reality makes its presence known
In a million small ways,
The inescapable aftermath of an
Impulsive, ill-conceived
Party thrown by teenagers when
Parents are away.
If she closes her eyes for a
Moment she remembers the
One who really matters.
Long Days Pass
He bristles when people
Who are onto him get
Too close, revealing
Who he really is in
Uncomfortably realistic detail,
Unbearable to someone who
Thinks he’s pulling the wool
Over people’s eyes.
A cocky mess of prancing and
Posturing jerks and twitches.
The sad gyrations of a
Cavalier clown.
He dismisses as psychobabble
Any discussion of his true character.
Long days pass, filled with
Justifications and regrets
Never uttered out loud lest
Someone like him
Makes fun of them.
Special
Not the same
As it once was,
I hold on desperately
To what made it so
Special, a memory of
How it used to be,
Clashing with
Present reality.
Fall from Grace
Self-appointed arbiters
Of morality and righteousness,
They incessantly harass everyone
To conform to their vision of
The world and more than
Just once in while
Fall from grace when it’s
Revealed that they’re as
Fallible or even more flawed
Than people who don’t portray
Themselves as paragons of virtue.
After the inevitable collapse,
They sit whining about how it’s
Everyone else’s fault while
Plotting their next steps toward
Imposing a crushing theocracy.
It’s There
How to be a kind person?
You already know how.
We all do.
Look deep inside and
You’ll find that part of you
That is free from
Fear, anger, sadness—
Your courageous self,
Without conditions or
Complications,
The version of you
That is love and peace.
You know it’s there,
Ready to embark on a
Journey of wonder.
Improving Education
Starve the public schools
By refusing to
Pay taxes.
Declare that teachers
And schools are
Broken.
Under the guise
Of school choice,
Dismantle the system.
Pass bills so public money
Can be spent on private,
Religious, or home education.
Help private corporations
Get their slice of
The pie.
Only support education
That furthers your
Political goals.
Issue proclamations
About how you’re
Improving education.