No Face in the Crowd

NO FACE IN THE CROWD

Anonymity plagues me
To be merely a shape
A creature ordinary
In a crowd of pretty
A mob of fabulous
A herd of superiority
With all the trappings of success

Insecurity hounds me
To be merely a shadow
Of somebody once pretty
Fabulous, superior,
Trapped in narrow ideas of success
And illusions of becoming
Bigger, better than I could ever be
A face in the crowd
Lost
Invisible
Anonymous

A poem prompted by this blog: Every Photo Tells a Story
inspired by her art: Erin McGuire

Curious

I look at you
And know not much

What I would give to know
The thoughts behind those eyes
The feelings that drive those thoughts
The life experiences that formed those feelings
Your life before I came
The stories I was not part of
Those times when you were young enough to cry
When you were innocent enough to be true
True enough to be free
Free enough to be you

I look at you and wonder
What you are about
And what I am in relation to you
A convenient prop
That completes the picture?
An obligation, a responsibility
Your sense of decency requires to keep?
The love of your life
Who keeps you whole?
The one who stayed?
The one whom you chose
When you knew no better?

I see your mouth open
Telling me of trivial details
Of the what’s and when’s
When what I want to hear is the why
I feel your arms around me
I feel your warmth
And I know you’re real
I know you’re here
Yet I ache
For something more
Beneath your skin
Between the words

Maybe this is it
All there is to know
Maybe I want too much
And imagine that there’s more
Maybe what I see
Is what I get
And what I get is the best there is
Do I tell my heart
To delight in this
That I should be so lucky
To have you
Flesh and blood
Here and now
And that’s all that there really is?

Unfinished Song (Literally)

Look outside your window

Step outside your world

Listen to other people

As they share their words

For there’s a world out there

Different from your own

There’s a world out there

Waiting to be known

So step out and learn

Reach out and share

Open your eyes, your ears

Your mind, your heart

For the story of success

Is not played out inside your room

The goal of progress

Is not reached by staying home

If you want world peace

You’ve got to fight the urge to stay

In your little world

Stuck in your good old ways

If you want the world to change

Then you must stir things up

You must move yourself

And reach out

For there’s a world out there

Different from your own

There’s a world out there

Waiting to be known

I Didn't Know You Well Enough

I didn't know you well enough
Didn't know your favorite color was pink
Didn't know whom you lived with
What you did
When you weren't with me
Who you were
When your guard was down
Beneath the layers
You chose to reveal
What you dreamed of
Ached for
What you're made of

I didn't know you well enough
Didn't have enough of you
Didn't hear enough speeches
Didn't hear enough stories
Didn't spend enough time
Before you left
So abruptly
Too early
Didn't know this was coming

Didn't try hard enough
To reach out to you
To know you
Didn't share all I wanted to tell
Didn't tell all I wanted you to hear
Didn't say goodbye
Didn't get the chance



And now no amount of wishing
Can give me time with you
No amount of regret
Can bring back time






This tragic death
Is suffered not by the one who's gone
But by the ones left behind
Those who didn't know you well enough

A Permanent Stance

I won't argue with you, my friend.
I will lose; that's the expected end.
I will balk.
I will hesitate.
I will hold back.
For I am not trained to pounce.
Or hurt.
I am not in battle form.
My energies focused elsewhere.
Not on winning,
But on bonding,
On seeking truths,
And reaching out,
On finding common threads
And positions of peace.

And you,
In your permanent stance
Of fight and fear,
Are well versed in battles of wits and words
Your intellect, your arms.
Your condescension, your barbs.
Your mocking tone, your shield.

Don't you get tired?
Don't your fists want to ease up?
Doesn't your back break
And heart ache?
Doesn't your upturned chin and your clenched jaw
Just rob the energy and soul out of you
As you permanently stand
Ready to bite, to hurl, and to fight?

Maybe you think it's cool.
Maybe it's the hard shell you put up in defense.
Maybe you're just giving back life's bad throws.
Maybe somebody did it to you.
Maybe it's just sport
For fun
For the thrill of the win.
But your dour old soul
Makes winning look like no fun at all.

You win.
So what?

Image stolen from http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.getkungfu.com/images/stance001.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.getkungfu.com/about.htm&usg=__VJMy4WM9iHqi2seMYsmsftzXYSs=&h=400&w=295&sz=21&hl=en&start=8&um=1&tbnid=GcI0Cjt7RXdSxM:&tbnh=124&tbnw=91&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dkung%2Bfu%2Bstance%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG%26um%3D1

Repairs Needed

So many things need repairing.
So many parts missing or aging.
Some parts worn down my by misuse and abuse,
some never used but still falling apart.
Repair seems futile.
A major overhaul perhaps.
An upgrade?
Now, if only I can find the warranty.




In response to the writing prompt of Every Photo Tells a Story

What needs repairing in your life?
What essential steps are needed to get there?

Check out her blog to get inspiration slash coercion to write.

Artwork by Neesha Hunter.

The Blahs

She waits
In faith
But it does not exempt her
From the ache

She knows
She believes
She prays
But waiting brings much pain

Uncertainty gnaws at her heart
Fear creeps in and makes her doubt
Bitterness wells up
Envy, fear, and the guilt for not believing enough

I wish I could end this with something redeeming
A hopeful thought to lift the cloud
A cliché, a positive slogan
Something, anything to make me believe

But not tonight
Let me not ignore the feeling
I don’t want to brush it under the rug
And deny what eats at me

Another night
Things will be better
But tonight I embrace the hurt
My broken, crumbling faith

Moonstruck

Couldn't keep the camera still. Blurred world. Motion beyond my control.

No prose. No verses tonight. I just thought this bad photo was visual poetry.

Psalm 14:1

You think you are so cool
So worldly
Sophisticated
So wise

You strut around with the notion
That you know it all
Are above it all
Immune from old wives' tales

You laugh at and deride
Those who dare to believe
In something bigger
Than what their eyes can see

You label others as fools
For they have so-called crutches
And because they know that
There is more to life than all this

You turn up your nose
At simple folks
In your heart you feel superior
To us, dense, delusional worshipers

You shout you have science on your side
Logic is your weapon
But isn't science about discovery
About an open mind

Smugly, you sneer at the poor soul-less creatures
Believing in the soul
You do a roll call of philosophers who speak
Your finite beliefs

But what do you really have
But a mind too small to accept the great
A heart too barren
A life too empty

Listen, shutting your eyes
Cannot douse the light
Spouting your echoed rhetoric
Cannot kill the truth

What you say is not there
Will not die with your disbelief
I have no debates to offer
I have no arguments

All I have is love
And a prayer
For forgiveness
For you know not what you do