September 2
PROMISE BROKEN
If promise shatters without anyone touching it, if it pops
like a floating soap bubble that lost its cohesion, what do I do? Name names?
I can’t even take fingerprints.
Sometimes dreams just end. No
fault or blame is attached. The ice
breaks under its own weight and nothing can be done. I am more than just holding on. I am alive even if all the promises melt
away. I can accept the unexpected and
the unasked for and still know this doesn’t affect my worth. My value is intact regardless of
disappointment or discontent. I have
learned that anticipation is mere amusement; promises are pleasantries. I am
made of stronger stuff. I am not broken by words, ideas or hope. Promise can be broken but it doesn’t break
me.
Open the mental
crayon box.
*
Where’s Your Chair?
Is the ring more unnatural for the tamer or the lion?
One the trapped, the other the trapper.
Who is the more in danger;
the one with loss of freedom
or the one with possible loss of life?
And while this question is still in play
the next question is begged. Why is there a ring?
What is worth the price paid
by the whip holder or the whipped?
Spectacle is a thing whose cost
reaches from the forest to the trees;
can take you from the highest rung
down to your knees.
All this lost for some Owwe’s and Ah’s
from people needing diversion
from the ring they turn tricks in.
