This Darkened Path Of Self-Examination

Your vain cold words wielded like an ax
against a tree because you’re cold in spite
of that conflagration blazing behind you
but that ax slinks solo chopping at
a frozen sea that once was us, so insufficient

and now?  It’s just more ice-pick chipping, adding to
that devastating sea of loathing and despair you swim in
like a leper in the Dead Sea of yourself.

Common grief can crack a frozen wall, but a frozen sea?
Alas, this grief is singular…and you giving, so giving…now
but only of more death and dumb destruction…

where was this giving when there was something more to give
besides grief and chippy picking needle peck peck peck ing?

I am searching in dark difficult corners because the light is empty, Fool…

and ‘neath that barrage of belittling comments I face our story,
our scandal, which is merely the scandal in every story that you refuse to read…
instead you hide under that pervasive smothering attitude

while I gasp for air and fumble with my flaws in the shuddering dark
you trumpet your search for beams of darkness that occlude specks of light,
light that irritates our eyes to tears and tear that frozen sea to pieces,
tear my frozen flesh to pieces…

It’s the difficult, dimly lighted places that require much more,
a merciful throne compels transparency that a dictator sees
as only weak capitulation…but it is here…

In the shadow of incarnation I find the strength to walk this…
this darkened path of self-examination.

A Spoonful Of Sugar

Can
you swallow
the bitter pill?
The pill that’s come
to dull our conscience,
cushion comfort, corners
nipped just so, sides longer
than tops and bottoms,
that exquisite little
emerald coffin-
shaped bitter
little
pill?

Life’s
fragility, life’s
impermanence,
life’s intertwinement
with imperfection and
disappointment—bitter
medicines (or are they drugs)

a realization of dread and
despair.  I wonder if those
crooning songs seduce,
induce indulgence
in an orgy of
escape into
the haze
of
narcissism…

or if they masquerade as friends to draw close,
sidling up so near to shove those pills dry
down our throats in rough and rooting
thrusting fingers ripping without a
drink to help them go down and
we, our own spoonful of sugar…
until we lie in thrall to
those fell jailers…no


enthralled to
no one but
ourself

that bitter
little
pill

Sadness over how people do not deal with things

I am sad tonight, as I watch the aftermath of someone who is headstrong and stubborn and refuses to actually understand the love they are being given.

This poem is about that:

None So Blind

When looking thru the lense of self you find
A singular defining of your mind
By one and only one stark measurement:
How it affects your fate, your detriment.

Narcissus rules the day and speaks aloud
To push a reasoned balance to the cloud
Of flowry deception and flattering ruin
While pride conspires to mix a bitter brewing.

Alas, all others get reduced to nonce
When glimpsed thru that dread mirror even once.
But in the end it isn’t they that go
But just the selfish, and they do not KNOW!!!

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