I do not disagree with that man who was once
me
And, most certainly no such fool could I ever
really be
For all the things prayed for then - have changed, and he knows -
And now, all those things once mastered are
buried treasures - covered in woes
That sit upon a checkered chessboard table
- empty of all the pawn pieces;
Devoid of any studied moves - the white
knight’s veiled leap - seizes
The black rook’s standing and so, destroys
the castle walls
Exposing the black king to the white
queen’s mating mauls.
No, I do not know that lost old man in wander
Nor can I speak to his iambic ponder
I see only that the path he walks is one
that is long past
And the place he dwells in is a ship -
cursed and without a mast;
Wrecked upon the shores of nirvana - as
the ancient seas
Have long since receded - beaching the noble
Pequod to her knees
Poor Ishmael, he must tell the ghastly
tale once more, to a naïf wedding guest
A story of a white whale that lives in our
hearts - while the albatross hangs at our chest.
Yes, I can attest to the soul and heart of
this man of words
Who once wielded killing swords
Until it made little sense and held even
less reason
Behind select uniforms that followed uniformity
so to avoid a path of treason
I can confirm that this man stands naked
before mother
And that, as mountains and oceans need one
another,
The stoic man needs his solitude to feed
the quiet madness
And then waits dawn’s tender touch to
awaken a recovery of gladness.
There is a darkness that sits at the core
There is an anxiety that consumes everything
– yet, it has never been more
There is however, a way there - to an open
peacefulness seeing that time is less
There are regrets that bent the mind and
that rage - twisted into a mess
There are all the many stumbles and falls drowned
with anise
and green bitters… The red
nurse said, “When you wake - just go ask Alice.”
There is a blindness that feeds his head
and keeps him near - fear
I once knew a man who was a lost boy that
brought all his tears - here.
