Ready to Go
a wobbling chin and her deserted glance hit the floor
in agony where we stood together while we chanted
misery: “you’re an ordinary man.” her mouth wrenched
an unforgettable sound cataclysmic eruption of scattered
emotions, broken speeches, tired and beaten hope
we were once before and not anymore but why
as we chanted misery simultaneously her mouth tightened
flushed while my fingers pointed into the pale distance and o!
i had once looked into her eyes as a young man
believed in love and forever and nothing now nothing ever
“you’re an ordinary man! all you’re good for is watching
our children. i hate coming home! i hate my life
with you!”
well maybe we’re hopeless but my ego is naive
and i don’t have any self-esteem so in the moment
we are chanting our misery.
So Carry On Still
a light grey rainless sky cold and uninterested.
“whether we are together today or not, let this happen
please,” he said and she accepted him, so carry on.
his body is unusually bulky and awkwardly they passed
each other in the hallway of the museum
musing at the past of successful human
accomplishments.
in his pink exposed belly poetry ached in acid
“and i know in my belly i will be amongst them,” he
thought a lot about his suffering that morning.
the bacon was burnt after exhausting the efforts
to please her and comfort their melancholy,
but he had studied and knew well the uncertainty.
their marriage was unhinged and in shambles.
“you’re unbearable!” he ejaculated to her,
crunching charred fat and drinking black
instant coffee—
“but whether we are together or not,” he calculated
to himself, “through all this pain and discomfort
I will always feel
still
it is better to fail
than to give up.”
so he attempted to lighten the atmosphere
“this coffee always reminds me of camping,
don’t you remember,” he nodded to her “in the mountains
we sang in the darkness
and the fire was still burning?”
“it reminds me of being poor,” she hissed.
in the morning he thought a lot about his suffering
but in the hallway of the museum that day...
he could smell the stench from his rotten mouth
“life could be worse,” he lamented, “but thankfully
i’m dreaming.”
Becoming
People can change and become
Responsible
And not their counterparts that rein
By waving an angry fist at difference
Those who attack because of the envy
And not willing to acknowledge the power
Of overcoming the struggle within them
People can change and become
Responsible
And not their frustrated counterparts that
Exhaust their attempts to bring them down
By forcing falsely proclaimed accusations
That lift worse and more ugly notions that
They are in the end not worth standing beside
Together with respect and dignity and
It is encouragement!
It is just a little damn recognition
People want that which will cause them
To continuously change, and become
Responsible
And not be the image of hatred bestowed upon them
By worse and more ugly ideologies pinned and aided
By worse and more ugly want-to-be heroes of
Humanity.
We can change and become
Masters of our own meaning
Our destiny to the greater life
The good and less suffered existence
We desperately strive for
day in and day out
We can, and we will
Become a character of purpose
By avoiding the murderous resentment and bitterness
Of the all too common malevolent behavior
Of our worse and more ugly counterparts
By accepting the challenges of bearing
The burden of growing the hell up.
When you know your darkness and its potential
When you know it possesses you in the same way
As your good intentions do
You can change,
And you will.