modern poems

It Will Never Happen

I wish I could assert
How unhappy I am
When I’m around you,
How my throat closes
And my chest hurts
When I think of spending
Any length of time
In your vicinity,
How your presence
Makes me think of
The innumerable times
When I was crushed
With complete disregard,
Laughed at as I lay there,
Screaming for help.
I’d like to say all
These things, but
It will never happen.

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Inflate

Ungracious, unkind, unaware.
Hubris dripping from every pore,
A disproportionate sense of value
Engendered by early deprivation,
A yearning to feel important.

Please tell me how great I am.
I relish every compliment and promise to
Turn it into a creepy exercise,
A child dancing awkwardly
For adulation.

The small try to inflate themselves with
The breath of the compassionate.
A constantly burning engine requiring
More and more fuel to maintain its
Sad vanity.

Scratch the Surface

A fragile crust of civility and
Self-satisfaction.
Practiced posturing.
Faces contorting laboriously,
Success stories volleyed
Back and forth, each more
Ungracious than the last, an
Ostentatious display of nihility.
Settling into oversize furniture,
Numbing drinks in hand, a
Selective catalog of books by
Small spewing minds, an
Overweening intimation of depth.
A flurry of strained graciousness,
High-school like social disgraces.
Scratch the surface to reveal
Festering unease.

Simply Listen

Facing each other
In a quiet room,
She lets her guard down,
Talking about things
That haven’t been
Allowed to surface before.
He interrupts her,
It being more important
To show how wise he is
Than to simply listen.

Depressingly Discernible

Delivering yet another
Monologue
On the same tired subject
He’s recounted a thousand
Times before, it’s
Depressingly
Discernible that he’s
Never listened to
Someone else’s
Point of view or
Made room for any other
Narrative but his.

Undesirable

I know when I talk with you that
You’re thinking of the next thing you
Want to say or how my words may be
Used to gain some advantage or
Make you look good in some way,
Perhaps subtly put me in my place,
All else is bothersome, undesirable.
A wilted, one-sided relationship where
One person’s self is stolen by
An unquenchable, uncaring void.

Pieces

Letting go once again,
Such a routine ordeal,
Bidding goodbye to so many
People and places dear.
It might get easier,
Though it really doesn’t,
He just pretends to
Get used to it,
Pieces of his self
Left behind.

Pendulum

Perplexing divergence,
One person sees
Opportunities to help,
Another relishes
Occasions to punish.

Disparate perspectives –
Vastly different outcomes,
Community or aristocracy,
Consequences radiating from
Personal preference.

Constant tension between
Dissimilar perspectives,
The pendulum swings
Too far in one direction,
People suffer needlessly.

False Equivalence

They say they’re all the same.
Throw them all out,
They’re all on the take,
Except that some of them
Want everyone to be
Treated with compassion and
Others don’t.
Some want to help the
Poor succeed and
Others don’t.
Some want to level
The playing field and
Others don’t.
Some want everyone
To have access to health care and
Others don’t.
Some want equal rights for all and
Others don’t.
A cursory look reveals
Both sides aren’t the same
At all, but the trope lives on,
Just as those who benefit
From false equivalence and
Confusion want it to.