Thursday, January 27, 2011

Oy Vey!

Living as The great pretender is a worrisome detailed directive.
Mimicking and foretelling and imagining desired responses...
posturing for false posterity, immodestly boasting nonexistent
skills lying about well being and excusing inabilities with elaborate
fabrications we invent ourselves normal and illustrious
for the truth is too much to bear.

Not just for me.

Master illusionist seems to be in high demand.
The truth sends people skipping and stammering and
running for safe hiding.
Avoidant glances and excused absences and
hastily curtailed conversations ensue.

Your words confuse and leave me, so I nod and smile a lot
say what is expected of me, lest you see my lost eyes.
The more I try, the less I understand,
the more people speak, the less I want to know.
I see revulsion in your eyes but I'm to keep playing saint
while you sneer in disgust and move away from me.

Every molecule of mine tightens and is stressed
by life nor its participants care not a thing for my feelings,
I just can't seem to get on the same page.
I wish I could act them right out my temple,
but they always take center stage, ushering out
instinct, perception,
Even superficial distance nor disinterest does not assist
for my fears are an avalanche,
and there are no rescuers searching for my buried body.

So I dance, as fast as I can,
suppressing anger and rage, and their predecessor, hurt,
lest you laugh at me while I share,
barely hidden behind your cupped hand and lowered chin,
you snickering into the good graces of another who would
bash me too.

I perform well and emote and entertain,
because I couldn't give tickets away
when I was keeping it real.

Everybody loves a good story.

Maybe that's why we're all playing such convincing parts.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Nemesis Energies

The rhetoric or unexposed truths
chimes deep in my sensing ears
My knotted, diseased gut holds tight
to plights of unknowns, neighbors,
and even the departed

The vagaries of insults
both real and fictitious
imprison my creation

Ecstasy occasionally threatens
to do a drive-by
but really it's just movie trailer expectations
manipulating my naive and tender gullibility

Hold cautious desires close,
low expectations closer,
and let fly unrealistic dreams
to pave way for the

"Oh what a joy your pets must be,
hold longingly to gratitude!"
The stench or urine and shit
and processed rotten fish is
embedded in my nostrils

My carnivorous expectations
never sated, never dwindling,
up-ending carts in my mind's temple

We are all of us
a moment away from
jails, institutions,
and death

Perhaps the realization
can serve as protection
in the waning hours of hope
between 3 and 4 a.m.