The Wrong People
Recoiling from the force of
His tirade, so many years
Of self-hatred generated
By the absence of love,
Sublimation of self,
An agonized lashing out
At the wrong people
Instead of the ones who
Really hurt him.
The Gift
I remember the day I came to you with
Gift in hand, but it wasn’t good enough,
Didn’t compliment what you already found
Familiar. I remember the look on your face
When I had the temerity to suggest that
The gift was something quite valuable and
Precious. No acts of naive courtesy permitted,
No souvenir from unvisited lands featuring
Swaying palm trees and beaming bathers.
I remember how you turned away.
Unable to Express
On his deathbed,
He croaks out something
That sounds like,
“I love you,” to his
Daughter, having been
Unable to express it at
Any other time,
A sadly hollow gesture
That would have
Meant much more if
He had had the courage
To say it along the way.
The Group
Letting people starve
Because they weren’t
At the right place
At the right time,
Or didn’t have the
Same opportunities,
A helping hand when
It was really needed
(But that is too often
Downplayed under the
Guise of self-reliance)
Or someone to offer them
A job or pave the way
For success in some form,
Or because they didn’t
Look or sound a certain way,
Or weren’t accepted as
Part of the group.
Unworthy
Glorified dualist vision,
Good versus evil,
Us against them,
Our people distinguished
By excellence and virtue,
Theirs huddle in
Laziness, barbarism.
Manichean perspective,
Forced tension between opposites,
Only one true good.
Disparage, separate, deprecate,
Dismiss with animosity.
Unworthy of consideration,
Cast aside unceremoniously.
Moves On
Everyone watched with
Consternation as he
Unraveled before them,
Spewing forth the saddest
Kind of misinformed
Presupposition possible,
Dogmatism drawn from a
Tainted source, profound
Fissures created long ago,
Bubbling under the surface,
Ready to erupt at any moment,
One such as this.
Moments later he moves on
As if nothing happened.
Open
Open your mind, open your heart.
Open the door to places uncontemplated.
Shed assumptions about a
World of fear. Thrive, flourish,
Nourished by courage and hope.
Cling to future rather than past.
Heal ingrained, untended wounds.
Move forward into the light.
Unspoken Code
An unspoken code
Keeps them all
In line, sporting
The same clothes —
Physical appearance —
Mores —
Social rules
That keep them
Stuck in a delusion
Of normalcy based
On fearful assumptions
About almost everything.