Gnawing

It keeps gnawing
At my insides,
A dull intruding
Discomfort.
I try to make it
Go away but it
Makes itself at home,
Taking up far
Too much space.
I ask it to leave,
No answer.

Return

Flustered,
Bewildered,
Off-balance.
They seek
Comfort and solace
From the strongman
Promising to
Return them to the
Safety they never
Really felt in the
First place and
Upon which the
Bellwethers rely.

Somehow Different

He explodes at the
Thought that someone
Else is getting something
For nothing; after all,
He’s worked for everything
He owns and has never received
Any assistance from anyone,
Except for his father, mother,
Uncle, friends, old classmates,
The system that keeps his
People in power, the
Infrastructure that helps
Him make money, the programs
He’s accessed when he’s
Needed help, the court system
That tilts in his favor, but
None of that matters, because
He’s somehow different.

Windfall

I used to let everyone
Else’s voice supersede mine,
Lent more credence to
What they said than
Anything I might have
Been thinking, and it
Paid off in an overwhelming
Windfall of misery and
Inauthenticity, having left
The real me languishing by
The wayside while I plodded
Ahead wearing someone else’s
Persona and venturing further
Away from the real me,
An indistinct whisper in
A cacophonous gale,
Alone and unindividuated.

Acrid

Startled out of
A blissful slumber
By the sound of
Insecurity
Roaring by in a cloud of
Acrid smoke,
Whooping and hollering
About some shallow thing
That only matters to
Someone who has no sense of
What it means
To heal.

Staring at His Shoes

During their house hunt,
His wife marvels at the
Modern kitchens and gushes
About everything she will
Be able to do and how much
Easier it will be.
He stands mute,
Staring at his shoes,
Hoping nothing breaks
The spell that keeps her
Serving his every need.

Save Our Nation

They bellow angrily about the
Urgent need to save our nation
From becoming a nightmarish
Place where everyone is
Treated equally, where each
Person enjoys the same opportunity
Regardless of who their parents are or
Where they live, a place
Where anyone can marry, where
No one walking down the street
Has to fear being shot by a
Fellow citizen or symbols in uniform,
Where a few rich people can’t
Own everything and leave nothing
For everyone else, where the deck
Isn’t stacked against you because of
What you look like,
Where we work together as a
Community instead of eyeing
Each other with suspicion,
Where we care for one another
Instead of trying to win.

Vanquishing

She calls a closed-door
Meeting to denigrate
The object of her scorn,
Win the latest fabricated battle
Against a monster with
The temerity to follow
A different path,
Lust for power mutilating truth,
Maiming kindness,
Destroying the innocent
To reassure herself she didn’t lose.

Bramble

As he sits alone at
The kitchen table,
In the middle of the night,
Under the unsettling glare
Of a single light bulb,
He wonders when he might
Get some sleep,
Whether the voices will
Ever quiet down enough
To let him rest.
Somewhere deep inside
He knows the answer but
It is hidden in a choking
Bramble of avoidance.