The waves both come and go, but still
The shore seems much the same
As waves of guilt surround me now
But barely touch the blame
That I assign to one like me,
Who knew where truth began:
The needless hurt that can be caused
From not much of
A man
(“Another Kind of Price” – 3-14-2017)
I wonder if you ever knew
How much I loved and envied you;
Each move you made so effortless,
Your carefree natural blessedness
That I resented foolishly,
Despite how you believed in me.
For though my heart’s a universe,
It has black holes in it — and worse —
So now, upon the crest of time,
I see the separation
I caused by my inveterate
And weak self-immolation —
But silent now the river runs,
I view it, somber, gray and tired:
Forgiveness I can’t ask for, since
You’re now where none’s
Required
And so, I compartmentalize
To justify my wrongs –
I honey what would scandalize
With sweet, but piquant, songs –
The empty mill that is my mind
Looks lively and afire –
But I know that there’s nothing there
And that I am
A liar
The hallowing of hollowing,
A process I know well:
I filled myself with nothingness,
And grew too proud to tell –
I thought my sorrows justified
The moments that I stole;
But then, the truth intruded on
What was left of my soul —
I know the emptiness I’ve lived,
I feel the keening lack –
But now, my eyes have seen the truth:
There is no going
Back
The heart that skittered in my chest
betrayed the world before my eyes;
the few who I had loved the best
had spun away to alibis.
I looked and stared, I stared and looked,
but nothing came to focus clear;
the wind still smelled as fate had cooked,
and I was neither there, nor here.
The truth was, I had lost much truth,
but hearts that change look much the same:
as I burned under self-reproof,
consumed to feel I was to blame —
There is a hatred we can’t ‘scape,
for it is everywhere – and whole —
a lurking phantom in our shape:
the forfeiture of joy
and soul
the wash that happens in the wake
of passions leading to mistake
will fast define the way we see
ourselves, within our misery
but do not view yourself as such,
though others use that portal —
for human is as human does,
and we are merely
mortal
There are two types of fathers:
Those that feel guilty
And those
That have no business being fathers
