Faceless behemoth,
Unaccountable,
Cold, unhelpful,
Unnecessarily complicated,
Lacking even the
Slightest bit of
Compassion,
No hint of humanity,
Run by robots.
I saw her on a bus travelling down
A busy thoroughfare, on the way to
A bustling downtown. Our eyes met and
We exchanged a smile. She stood up,
Brushed a strand of auburn hair off her face,
Rang the bell, and got off at the next stop.
As the bus drove away our eyes met again.
My mind in turmoil, I hastily approached
The bus driver and asked to be let off
Between stops. I’m sorry sir, that’s against
The rules, he said deadpan, staring straight ahead.
The next stop too far away.
How safe I feel until it appears:
Lashing, shoving, upsetting
My calm certitude. Rattling,
Confusing, shaking the walls of
My nerves. Look around and wait
In tense anticipation for tranquility to
Return. Try in vain to disregard the
Haphazard din, continuous thrusts.
Calm arrives, disquiet remains.
Why is it that everyone in my
Office works so hard on being
So rude? Would it be so difficult
For people to be nice instead of
Condescending and snide?
What is the allure of creating chaos and
Disturbance when peace and balance are
Viable options? People walk around with
Their inner processes on their sleeves,
Working out their issues on each other.
I remain silent, unrecognized.
He hated her so much,
Probably because she could
See right through him,
To that place where
He was exposed and vulnerable,
Unable to get by on mediocrity or
Pretend his way out,
Where transcendence matters,
And stars shine far brighter
Than he ever would.
There will be a day when you can’t sing.
There will be a day when you can’t dance.
You have your whole future ahead of you.
Do it while you can.
Don’t wait until it’s too late.
The cliches landed on her head with
No effect. She had made up her mind.
It was him or nothing.
True love would prevail and nourish them.
If times got tough, they always had each other.
She walked through the doorway and into the
Remainder of her life. Expectations high,
Realities ambiguous. With her, the object of
Her affection and the promise that
All would be well.
His ardent aspiration
Is to belong to
The same clique that
Looks down on and oppresses
People like him,
A desperate yearning
To be part of a perceived
Power structure,
Identifying with a group
That considers him expendable.
I thought I couldn’t do it and
I didn’t. I told myself I wasn’t
Good enough and it came true.
I didn’t take a risk and stayed
Stuck to my couch.
Wishing things were different.
Hoping things would change.
No breaks coming my way.
I saw a bird land on a branch.
He paused, cleaned his feathers and
Flew without a thought.
What if there were more than
One way to look at things?
What if you could have different
Points of view all adding their own
Unique essence to the mix, making
Things tastier rather than bland?
No thanks! Why would I ever want
To live more piquantly when I have
All I need, safely circumscribed?
