Another letter arrives, and
With it a reminder of
The unrelated path I’m on.
No longer an unwitting participant
In a skewed game of
Manipulation and belittlement.
The demands of the past
Attempt to weaken my resolve
But fail to succeed.
All at once,
Each thought
More intrusive than the last,
Vying for attention,
Demanding flashing signs.
In the turbulence,
A small voice beckoning,
Comfort and solace,
Purpose.
I realize that
What I thought was authentic
Turned out to be
Something else
Unsubstantial, inane,
A deliberate fabrication
Demanding my time
Giving nothing in return but
Empty stimulation,
False meaning,
Superficiality.
Blissfully easy,
Categorizing a
Human being as
Defective, lazy,
Unworthy of care,
Compassion.
Cruel exercise,
Rendering a person
Featureless,
Expendable,
Trash decomposing
In a gutter.
Crucial shift
From apathy, scorn,
To compassion,
Understanding
That is all of us
But for chance.
It’s really easy to
Go with one’s baser
Instincts, it requires
No actual thought,
Just be rude or
Dismiss someone without
Worrying about it
For even a moment,
Look away,
Pretend you see nothing,
Feel nothing.
Kindness requires
More deliberation,
A conscious effort
To love and value
Yourself, others, the world,
A resolution to go beyond
Self-interest and
Offer peace and joy
To everyone.
An affable man was asked whether
He was a writer. He replied emphatically
That he was most definitely not a writer but
More of a reporter. He walked away to
Continue chronicling the vicissitudes of life,
Seen through a lens of superficiality and
Constriction. He made only one exception:
When his words could help damage the
Vulnerable, otherwise, just casual
Accounts about nothing of consequence.
It’s cold outside,
Snow on the ground,
But the girl with
A hula hoop
Is enjoying herself.
A group of men converge, a raucous
Interplay of competing smiles and
Fables. Towels snapping, quips
Flying, one-upmanship obligatory,
Manic talking, absent listening,
The rustling of business cards being
Exchanged on the fly with
Assurances earnestly attached.
I’ll call you soon, we ought to get
Together for lunch, I like what you’re
Doing, that’s interesting. The phone
Lays silent at his side, unringing,
Unblinking. Useless. A sour
Reminder of broken promises,
Confidences offered in jest. Lack of
Depth, sincerity, meaning.
What seemed initially
To be exactly what
She always wanted
Turned out to be a weight
Around her neck,
A constant reminder
That things would
Never be the same,
That she very well
Might have chosen the
Absolutely wrong path and
Would never be able
To admit it to anyone.
