Hey, big shot,
I see you over there
With your fancy car
And empty head,
Puffed chest,
Deflated self,
Screaming for attention,
Anything to make
The oily film of
Self-loathing
Abate for a moment.
She’s not
Like everyone else.
She has courage
And insight.
She creates worlds
No one else has.
She doesn’t follow
Trends or fads.
She listens to
Her own voice.
He stopped counting
After the first one-hundred or so,
Each one blending into the last,
A long parade of sad beings
Turned inside out
Because they know nothing else,
Woeful creatures who have
Never had a voice of their own,
Easily enticed by
Waiting wolves.
It was clear
He wouldn’t have
The courage to do
Anything but what
He had always done.
It took many years
Of memories and
Experiences to get
Here, none of which
He would let go of.
Things would remain
Much as they had
Always been,
Sad and stunted,
Unexamined.
Waves come and go,
Some larger than others,
An insistent ebb and flow.
Sitting alone on a rock
Looking out over
A vast expanse of blue.
What is today
Will not be soon,
As always.
Experiences
Of many kinds,
Some forgotten.
As she discovered
Over many years of
Resisting change,
There isn’t much
You can do about it,
If anything at all,
It just happens and
You have to deal with it
As you see fit,
Which determines
How your life transpires.
He walks into the room,
Apprehension creasing his brow,
An unfamiliar setting
Where he’s not in control,
Where he can’t tell people
What to do, where the cold
Spotlight is trained on him and
All his frailties, the ones
He’s tried so hard to hide
And that have hurt so many.
He tries to bark some orders
To gain the upper hand,
But it doesn’t work,
The illusion vanishes
When people know how it’s done.
It was the saddest thing to see
Her go. Consumed by rancor and
Antipathy, disfigured by forces she
Couldn’t resist, tempted by promises
Of power, control, safety, dominance,
A return to panacea, a premised land.
Writhing uncontrollably, harsh voice
Feigning certainty, hands clenched,
Eyes staring blindly, ferociously.
The fire of abandoned reason, inability
To acknowledge reality unretouched,
Capitulation to fear complete.
A pedantic know-it-all,
Droning on about
His one area of expertise,
Laboring to relegate
Anyone and everyone to
Subordinate status,
Unable to make any
Meaningful connection,
A maudlin pretense of power
From a small, sad being
Who has never healed.
