Procession
There are times when the voices
Get so loud I whimper to
Relieve some of the pressure.
An agonizing procession of
Discomforts leaves its unwelcome
Footprints on my narrative.
Photo Album
Betrayed by those she trusted,
An impenetrable veneer of
Grime and acrimony hampering
Vision, stilted unconscious steps,
Living one phantasmagoric day at
A time. When things were better,
Fear wasn’t a supposedly
Necessary companion,
Her world was a cleaner one where
Unicorns came to visit and play.
Smear everything with tainted
Filth, defend the continuation of
The proud ruination tradition.
Stare into helpless eyes and
Create new, indelible memories.
A besmirched photo album.
Compulsion
Not having experienced
Unconditional love,
Memories of harshly
Intoned words,
Belittling snide looks,
Constant jabs at
Budding self-esteem
Pervade unsettled sleep.
He becomes a leader and
Is faced with the
Universal choice:
Compassion or retribution.
He looks deep inside,
Finds nothing to draw upon
But a staggering
Compulsion to vanquish.
Deformed
Faces bereft of
Human emotion.
Deformed reasoning
Discharging onto everything.
From lowest to highest,
Dreadful pain procession.
Unresolved inner turmoil
Cast carelessly outward.
Orgiastic dominant behavior
Covering for inadequacy.
Apocalyptic internal cacophony,
Seize what you can now.
Anyone
Sitting alone in
Some coffee shop,
Wondering what
Might have been
Had he listened to
Anyone but himself.
Revealed
I wonder what you’re
Doing right now,
Not because I want to
But because it was
Inculcated in me from
Childhood, an obsequious
Subservience coupled
With absolute deference
To feeble monarchs
Handing down flawed edicts,
Intolerant of any dissent
Or individual thought
Lest their mangled innards
Be revealed in all
Their stinking wretchedness.
His Act
I wonder if he
Realizes how
Tightly wound,
Unhappy,
Harsh he looks,
Whether he has
Any understanding
Of how he comes
Across to others,
But I doubt
He does,
Self-awareness not
Being very important
To his sort.
His forced laugh,
A rough interjection,
His brow a knot of
Unresolved pain,
His words permeated
With simmering fear,
Uncomfortable
Countenance.
I’m sure people who
Are like him will
Readily buy
His act,
But I don’t.
Formerly Close
Up to this moment,
He had refused to
Believe that
His friend was really
Uttering the words
Coming out of his mouth,
That someone could
Believe what this
Person whom he had known
For so long holds dear,
That a human being could
Be so consumed with fear
And confusion that he
Would utter such filth,
The realization of
Severe miscalculation,
No longer knowing
Someone formerly close.
Grumble
A person,
Given all the power,
Takes a moment,
Decides to change the world.
Helps the few,
Ignores the many.
An avalanche.
Mountains crumble,
Structures tumble,
A general grumble.