Tuesday, August 11, 2009

august 11th, 2009

here's an older poem...




                                      ...and again I am left alone with the yellow face of the beast of solitude.  He is hideous, but sits with unflappable arrogance.  He knows my weakness as I know his.  He is a creature of immense power and delicious craft, but lacks the belief that vulnerability can be a beautiful thing.  It is for this reason he is able to generate such focus, such evil.  But I see his vulnerability; it is small and ferocious and it is caged deep in his stomach.  Because of this he does not intimidate me, but of course, he believes my vision to be outlandish.

So we sit                                         and we stare, each afraid of such tender things.

1 comment:

  1. this one is "fearful"..but I am not afraid any more...the beast and all the evils do not exist any more...they said to me they were afraid of me and they just left..