At some point
There is a closing
Of the mind,
A numbing of the heart,
An inability to feel
The suffering of others
In any meaningful way,
A grim resignation.
A hardened persona
Forged from years of
Suffering, or perhaps
Only one traumatic moment,
Unable to reach out from
It’s own pain and
Connect with others
Who are hurting.
Sadness surrounds
The gatekeeper,
So many precious hours
Spent making things
More convoluted,
Blocked, obstructed,
Rather than helping,
Pathological need to
Control driving base lust
For petty power.
Things are more difficult
Around here,
Thanks to me,
That’s how I matter.
He lets me into
His existence,
But it’s not a place
I really want to visit,
Rather unsettling,
Full of jagged edges,
Hard, untended
Spots of insecurity
Covered with makeshift
Patches of ego.
I politely look around
Hoping to find something
Comforting, healthy.
I leave shortly
Thereafter with
No plans to return.
He came upon grace,
An unfamiliar state
Callously dismissed as
Unbecoming.
He came upon hope and
Methodically
Wrung its neck with
Unfounded beliefs and
Fearful suppositions.
He came upon love and
Violently banished it
Away from himself,
And others.
An ugly smile announces
The bully, who indifferently
Smears his unformed,
Unexamined nastiness
On every surface,
Forcing the worthwhile to their
Knees, savaging the
Nuanced and vulnerable,
A loud surge of cacophonous
Stupidity wrapped in a
Business suit, playing
The victim when reason
Exposes his hypocrisy.
Please don’t tell me
How much you
Care about others or
Give to charity
Or what a big heart
You have when
You brazenly and
Unapologetically support
Policies that destroy
The poor and vulnerable
Who need help
Rather than scorn.
A clearing in the forest for dance,
Connecting with nature,
Celebrating peace, hope,
Joy, discovery,
Learning, community.
In another corner of the forest
A group worships fear and hate,
Flames licking their way
Up sordid symbols of
Venomous loathing.
He expects a bow, a curtsy,
A genuflection indicating a
Profound respect for his station.
Any affront to his sovereignty is
Answered with exaggerated rancor,
Swift punishment meted.
A scepter compensates for a
Weak mind and cavernous,
Petty appetite for power.
Of course we didn’t talk about it.
We never do, never have, never will,
Never mind.
A giant question mark that keeps
You from running, jumping, dreaming
Out loud.
Open your precious gilded box,
The one with all the secrets in it,
Carefully arranged, excommunicated.
Look around furtively, someone might
See who you are when you’re not
Ready for visitors.
