A Different Type of Prejudice

Observe: the heart that knows the truth,
That sees the light, that feels the heat —
Who quiet in the study learns,
But still is welcome on the street —

Behold: the difference-maker who,
While much-respected where she goes,
Is like a river underground
Where no one knows from whence it flows —

But this — this is the barrier
Between her truth and everyone:
A different type of prejudice,
That sees no trouble, so assumes

There’s been none

Hearts Are Full Of Fields

You know her angry, critical;
A person certain, full of pride –
But once, there was another her;
From time long past and distance wide —

She loved a boy, who was her heart;
But he, at last, his love denied –
He left her on what should have been
The day that she became a bride

So now you see her as she is,
Someone who always seems outside;
Who keeps her distance from the team,
With comments both acerb and snide

But if you knew her as I do –
The love that never died inside –
You’d know that hearts are full of fields
Where flowers grow
That none
Have spied
 


 

(“Hearts Are Full Of Fields” – 6-30-2015)

Meanwhile, In The Real World

Cassandra writes far better than
I ever, ever could;
But keeps most of it in her mind
Where it does little good

Abiding with her cigarettes
And straight Crown Royal shots;
Anesthetizes her regrets
Picks off her straggling thoughts

For cynical and sexual
Is how she likes to be:
But yet beneath the skin and ink
Is pure humanity

She lives in an apartment
With a lingering touch of mold;
While I live in my luxury
Amidst suburban gold

She scorns me, but she’d do me
To submit me, to control:
As nightly, she must strangle out
The poet
In her
Soul