Disculpa

If I thought you'd understand,
I think I'd say I'm sorry,
and I would beg apology
for letting who you are
bring out the worst in me.

Angels of our better nature
can be silenced by our fears,
betrayed by base desires,
and vanquished by a vanity
that turns us into liars.

If I thought that you would get it,
I'd say that I get you:
the imperative of safety,
the urge to hide your weaknesses
from monsters such as me.

But everyone's a bogeyman
when you fear the fiend in you.

Believe the garbage you’ve been sold

and encase yourself in plastic,

lest your true self be told.

Today no new ideas

will gain traction in your mind.
So draw a knife, deny,
let no one testify.
Keep your pretense.

(all defense)

I’ll wish you well

and walk on by.

This is a Three Word Wednesday post.

Just a Game

I tried to find a path

through the forest of your lies,

but there were no tracks to guide me

past distortions,

truth-contortions,

tiny portions

of reality,

salted with fable dust.

My questions did not yield answers,

only fairy tales,
light as gas, like helium,
hydrogen,
oxygen,

making me giddy,
feeding the flames,

until the periodic table of untruth

fell apart

from lack of substance.

No bait from me could tempt you

to throw off your pale mask.

No words could reassure

that there is honor
among thieves.

And so I wandered

on the edge of sanity,

out-gambled,

out-classed,

a mere record for your files.

But in spite of the complex mess we made,

the pride and posturing,

the drawn knives,

in the dark,

carving each other up

with phony smiles,

still I wonder

late at night,
(and when the sun is high)

what little game it was we played,

and was it victory or tie?


This was written for The Sunday Whirl.

55 - Baby Squirrel

I think he fell

from the magnolia tree,

but when i looked up,

no nest did I see.

Too much danger

to leave him outside;

I put him in a box,

took him for a ride.

The vet treated him,

with fluids to make him better.

Now my squirrel resides

at the local wildlife center.

 Got a story you can tell in exactly 55 words? Let the G-Man know!

Let’s Pretend

It’s all surface play, you know,

the careful words and euphemisms.

Allusions

Illusions

Occlusions

Around and around the mulberry bush,

until we all fall down.

Flaccid arguments replace real words.

We speak of ghosts and phantoms.

Oblique

Misspeak

All tidy and sleek,

but no more real than shadows

on cave walls.

So don your favorite costume.

Paste a smile upon your face.

Practice your sidelong looks and innuendo,

for there are elephants in this room,

and they are hungry.

This is a Three Word Wednesday post.

Time Heals

Where did it go?

The anger,

second-guessing,

crazy-making,

sense of false pride,

hubris,

need,

vanity,

that shatters all serenity,

splits the heart,

and cleaves the mind in two.

Some cuts take a long time to heal.

Deep inside the cave of doubt,

we learned to lie,

say anything,

while wearing foolish costumes

and giggling behind a mask.

But inside we were

scooped out,

hollow,

pressing on our bruises

to see if they still hurt

(they did)

and wondering

why healing wouldn't come.

But somewhere along the way,

we got lost

and found

new distractions from old pain.

Free of pokes and prodding,

gentle time's arnica

worked its magic.

The chattering demon

of lies and loaded questions

is spent now,

no more real

than a moonshine-addled dream.

(What was it about?)

And in its wake

there remains

only our shared memories
and love.

This is a Sunday Whirl post.

In Memoriam

According to Will Durant, "Education is the transmission of civilization." This is a fitting description of Doc Taylor's career, since he not only taught the specifics of our American civilization, but through his actions he taught us to be a little more civilized in our own right.

I used to wonder why a man with his education and experience taught high school. Surely there were more lucrative and prestigious jobs available for someone like him. But now, with the benefit of a few extra decades of living, I can see the appeal. Our teen years are the last time we can be easily reached. At that age we are wise enough to understand big concepts, but not yet set in our ways. In full adulthood, it often takes great trauma to soften us and make us reexamine our lives, but as teens, we can still be molded by a gentle hand.

Doc held his students to high standards, but always with a gentle touch.

They say one candle can light a thousand others without diminishing its own brilliance, but I believe Doc's candle burned all the brighter for having lit so many.

Note: I took Doc Taylor's AP American History class my junior year of high school. The following year, he tutored me for the AP Western Civ exam, since my school did not offer a class at that time. More info about Doc Taylor in his obituary and in this news story.

55 - Rescued

She was alone on the trail on a hot and dusty day.

Lost in this great wilderness, it seemed she had nowhere to turn. 

All seemed hopeless, but then rescue came.

Blissful kindness of strangers! 

Refreshed and revived, she knew things would be okay.

 And later that night, she had quite a tale to tell!

If you have a tale to tell, and can do it in exactly 55 words, let the G-Man know!