Tag: nonfiction

Salvaged

Delegated to the back room,
I am marginalized, invisible,
employ-ability in question.

I am a peripheral observer,
self-conscious of my status,
disintegrating at the edges.

Watch as relationships form,
people engage, socialize, find
purpose, ignore my presence.

Desperate, I grasp at meanings,
decipher holes in conversations,
measure lacking in interactions.
Ennui drives introspection –
a terrifying abyss of endless
confrontations and shortfalls.

Unable to bear the tedium –
madness threatening – I push
forward, reconsider stock

determine redundancies,
discern detrimental agendas,
am inspired to make changes.

Experience bears fruit, I can
salvage the situation, trim
excess, purge the sedentary.

Ideas flood, passion igniting,
prospects are not lost – creativity
fuels a new sense of belonging.

Fall from Grace

The proverbial can has exploded –
transparency of our deceit now lies
like swarms of glass snakes writhing
at our feet – litany of hissing truths.

Bent on keeping innocence alive,
I strategically attempt avoidance,
point to wealth, abundance, nurture
focus – the onslaught continues.

Slivers of slime, maggot-like hoards
mobilize – a sea of protestation, I
overwhelmed by filth and disgust
encroaching on my sanity – helpless.

Familiarity colours the devastation –
have witnessed it before, watched
as my mother bit into the same
serpent defiled apple – turned away.

There are no barriers to block out
the vile beasts – no refuge for broken
souls, whose lives – twisted in denial –
have mercilessly fallen to betrayal.

Paradise Rattled

Change rears its scaly head
espies my fragile structure,
seizes opportunity, slithers
brazenly…

I recoil, attempt composure,
downplay danger, pretend
control, waiver, vulnerability
blatant …

Disturbance quickens, doubles,
advances swiftly, a sinuous
menace seeking its prey,
unstoppable…

I am defenseless:  retreat
impossible, denial futile;
praying for mercy, survival
unscathed….

The serpentine beast knows
no moral boundaries, writhes
to an ungodly call, devours
complacency…

I brace myself, recall past
attacks – venomous fangs
ripping through fragile flesh –
ravaged…

Resiliency restores equilibrium
(must have developed immunity)
as the predator slinks away, sated
momentarily….

Under (Re)Construction

Stripped back constructs
of disguised suppression
stir hopeful postulations –

I am bare-boned, dreaming,
questioning realities marred
by incestuous suspicions,

intending renewal, probing
dank floorboards housing
codependent disharmony.

This state of disrepair
manifests ego-inundated
trivialities, reveals burial…

blackened circles of rage –
coffin-like – implode, emit
entombed screams – echo

tremors of past fault lines,
destabilizing augmentation –
the liability of renovation.

What Is It About Me?

Intelligent woman,
moderately attractive,
seeks insignificant man –
expectations minimal,
availability unimportant
(avoiding commitment)
accepts hollow vows.

Funny, entertaining –
life of the party –
suitable for social
outings, work place
functions, and other
excursions not requiring
intimate input from mate.

Am willing to set aside
reason, subjugate self
to abuse and rejection
in exchange for moments
(scraps really) of affection,
depraved passion welcome,
no prerequisites necessary.

Must be able to overlook
complete lack of direction,
social uncertainty, unresolved
issues of abandonment  –
scars from childhood abuse
a legacy of poor choices, and
other emotional baggage.

Apply with a subtle gesture –
warm smile, gentle touch –
insinuate state of unhappiness,
suggesting I possess remedy –
be sure to stipulate promises
nonexistent – insist all former
lovers incomparable to me.

Reform Called For

Placed without consultation
in an undesirable position –
certainly didn’t ask for this –
I am decidedly displeased.

Princess tendencies expected
pampered outcomes – exalted
deployment – hypochondriacal
drama despises responsibility.

Lack of working boundaries
merits complaints, too many
unknowns counterproductive,
yet I will forge ahead, accept.

Cross-purposes: reckless regard
for what’s important, and a need
to make things right (regardless
of cost) drive me to distraction.

Craving simplicity, am motivated
to create a suitable environment,
encounter more obstacles, feel
sabotaged from all angles, despair

lash out – not maliciously – only
begging for accountability, willing
understanding of consequences –
without collaboration futility arises.

Clear guidelines are needed here,
unrealistic expectations not helping,
need predictability, healthy protocols,
reinforcements to calm the chaos.

Foundational barriers breaking down,
the royal tower is crumbling – radical
change in the offing – reset, commit,
we can do this with duel dual effort!

tower

Turning Point

Played host to insecurity,
catered to bullying,
undermined by warped
agendas – slayed by
provincial minds –
retreated, convalesced,
sanitized lost vitality,
believed in phantoms,
haunted by compulsions,
attempted rescues,
counseled to let go.

Shell-shocked
in the aftermath,
incoherent,
judging self,
incomprehensible.

Where do I go from here?

Ignore criticism,
disarm cruelty,
sanctify privacy,
detach, discern,
redefine boundaries,
embrace enlightened,
caring, receptive  –
choose life.

 

Run!

Spent most life running –
obligations stepping stones
spanning the endless abyss –
desperately seeking bridges.

Inescapable is darkness –
pathways crumble, falter,
delusions disintegrate –
I have fallen, am falling

Alone. Starkness blinding,
rawness of soul exposed,
like an inverted negative,
surreal, unexpected truth.

Unanswerable questions arise,
I breathe, am not received,
no reflection to validate me,
matter suspended without

purpose, so fleeting, fickle
I am shadow, shelved,
inconsequential, nothing
silence painfully throbbing

riddled by abandonment –
victim or perpetrator – God’s
design or fantasy’s failings:
either way, I am cast aside

endlessly floating, undefined
losing grasp, untethered,
hopelessly longing for legs
that I might run again.

Ocean’s Legacy

My father’s eyes were the ocean,
hypnotizing, alluring, and I desired
to know their depth, their mysteries,
certain that true love dwelt there.

Volcanic was his temperament,
a constant fiery, churning nature,
that both awed and frightened –
danger always lurking: precarious.

He was the mountain, and we; his
offspring cowering in his shadows,
smothered by his darkness, only
dreaming of light: tortured souls.

Impotent in the face of his angst,
sought reparation elsewhere, looked
for his soul in the heart of others,
longed for healing from his disease.

Found eyes like his, mannerisms
that mimicked, aspired to love,
encountered unspoken truths:
learned of addiction’s demons.

Ran from one man to another,
constantly confronting same
wall of denial, dance of anger,
insurmountable debilitation.

I am my mother’s daughter,
congenial to a fault, driven
to please, pleased to submit,
an alcoholic’s dream mate.

Like my mother, I long for
something indescribable –
certainly unattainable – believe
that I am fated, unlovable.

Fallen, as I have, as she had,
into the mesmerizing blue
of his ocean, craving to know
the love that surely dwells there.

Procrastination’s Fallout

Deadline’s coming –
prepare to duck!

Every available surface
strewn with papers,
warning: Stay away!

Body splayed on bed,
bemoaning undeniable
stress: Whoa is me!

Tiptoeing commentary
begets snappy response:
I work best under pressure!

Expletives erupt, slicing
the early morning calm,
wall of tension follows.

Deadline’s here –
run for cover!

Unthinkable happens –
computers disable,
programs run amuck –

Tongues bite back
told you so’s, temper
peaks:  crunch time.

Hold your breath –
sudden silence –
is it progress?

Deadline’s here –
nobody move.

A shuffle, a click,
a sigh signaling
relief – an end?

Damn, I’m good –
lightness of tone
stress deflating…

Deadline’s here –
are we in the clear?

Assess damage,
step over debris,
resurrect living…

Shaking heads,
clucking disapproval
only re-perpetuate.

Deadline’s coming –
prepare for onslaught!