poems about brokenness

Entrenched

Entrenched below
Consciousness, attitudes
Developed through rote
Reinforcement, leaving
No room for anything but
Dogma, a narrow window
No light penetrates,
A joyless trudge
Through life.


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At Their Feet

They identify
Each other by their
Unfeeling eyes,
Rigid faces,
Infected smiles.
They form groups that
Attract others
Like them who are
Infirm inside and
Can only feel momentary
Relief by forcing
Their dogma on
Every living creature,
And it still is
Never enough to
Fill the hole,
Even when the entire
Planet is left
Gasping at their feet.

The Chosen

Hardness smothers
The landscape, muffling
Contemplation, eradicating
Nuance. The once unthinkable
Becomes the norm, toxicity
Pervasive, accepted,
Glorified in circles shrinking
To outsiders, the chosen
Throwing a party for themselves.

Free Speech

He’s surprised and
More than a little
Offended when it’s
Pointed out that he
Has said something
Incredibly rude to
The young woman
Seated next to him.

So it also goes with
Many things he says
To myriad people in
Multiple contexts,
Spreading horribleness
With impunity under
The pretense of
Free speech.

Head of the Table

The best he can do,
Lash out at people who
Never had the opportunities
He did, who never did
Anything but make his meals,
Shine his shoes,
Clean his toilet.
Out of all the choices
Set before him,
He settles on writing
Things to hurt them,
To secure his place
At the head of the table,
And make sure the
Would be usurpers
Don’t get any ideas.

Recognize

You’re great,
No, you’re great,
I’m great,
That’s right,
You are great,
We’re all great,
All on the same
Level, we recognize
Each other and are
Comfortable,
All broken.

That’s It

So, anyway,
That’s it.
After so many years
It all comes to
An inauspicious end.
No fanfare,
Just unvarnished
Termination.
Hard to
Believe.

Crafting

He spent his life
Carefully crafting a
Public persona of
Authoritative confidence.

He failed,
Instead producing a
Knot of blemishes
And insecurities.

Unattended

She cries at the
Most trivial moments,
Everyone around her
Notices that it
Doesn’t quite fit
With what’s really
Going on at the time,
Memories of the
Anguish she felt as
A child bubble up
Relentlessly,
Unacknowledged,
Unattended.
She lives this way
Her entire life,
It colors her
Worldview deeply.