What a joyful moment when
Some person realizes how
Great she is, opens her wings,
Soars undaunted into the
Realm of possibilities,
Blissful realization.
When asked whether
Her book was in stores
Or had won any awards,
She knew she was not
In the presence of
Discerning supporters
But, rather, conventional
Creatures who only measure value
Based on prestige and status
Instead of understanding
The transcendence of her work.
Abundant wealth,
Copious success,
Bountiful opportunities,
Doors open at all turns.
Takes time out of busy schedule,
Attends local governance meetings,
Rails against
Programs for the less fortunate.
Compassion gene missing.
A series of people
Helped him along the way,
Fancies it was all him.
She said something that was
Deeply meaningful to her, a secret
Kept for too long at too great a cost.
When it was time, she let it out and
Waited. Uncomfortable squirms,
Furrowed brows, relived memories,
Erupted into slashing counterattacks.
Protect the fabricated narrative
At all costs. Lock the truth back in
It’s cell and mention not its name again,
Harden defenses, change the subject.
A lovely quiet neighborhood,
Peaceful homes tidily arranged
Around a park. Birds sing,
Bunnies frolic on the grass,
Children giggle, flowers bloom,
Trees whisper, neighbors smile,
The sunshine warms everything
It touches, cheerful relaxing days.
Kindness has not visited one home
In a long while. A stern, agitated,
Vigilant, halting settler, inner voices
Barely contained. Imposing angry
Noises on the calm as was done in
His childhood homes. He couldn’t
Wait to leave, now he pays homage.
Neighbors warily pretend not to notice.
Let’s keep it
The way it’s always been,
Advantage us – scarcity you,
We get all the stuff,
You get meager scraps.
Let’s sit smugly on our porches,
Exchanging phony, chummy banter,
One-upping each other,
Reliving past glories.
Not a trouble-maker in sight,
They’re across the tracks
Where they belong.
Neatly manicured lawns,
Freshly painted homes,
Spurious smiles pasted on
Stiff wax faces,
Underplayed horror stories.
You told me not to quit my day job
When I sang a song. You told me
Not to quit my day job when I told a
Silly joke. You told me not to quit my
Day job when I started writing a book.
I decided to quit my day job, where
Does that leave you?
Don’t do this, don’t do that.
Don’t you listen? Do it like this.
How many times do I have to
Repeat myself? I’m getting tired of
Always having to show you
How to do this. Don’t you
Get it? Don’t you have any
Common sense?
There’s a right way to do things.
I know what’s right for you.
I am the law. I’m doing it because
I love you. I know the way.
I’m just trying to help you avoid the
Mistakes I made. Do as I say, not
As I do. I’m the one in control here.
An old man at the edge of a cliff
Looking over a majestic canyon,
A roiling slash of river running far below.
So many years past, opportunities missed,
Pleas ignored, withered heart.
A small hand in his reminding him of
Inescapable matters. A quick look down, a
Reassuring smile masks somber memories.
He closes his eyes and feels the breeze
On his body, the sun on his face, the
Vastness of the landscape, a speck of
Insignificance perched on the precipice.
Life perdures uninterrupted but for
Those denied solace by fear and gall.
