You tease me about poems and paranoia,
unaware that we are always on guard
with our favourite toys, prepared
to reach the thatched ladder
over the black hole.
The one we are certain
we did not dig.
When you can be fat and happy
hunched over machinery sans guilt,
then you are one rich man falling.
Gift-giving makes such a man nervous
and she has included you childlike
in her great big-hearted basket.
The polishing of pride,
and the lending of contentment
are all swallowed by her good
intentions
saved for unity and motherhood.
She kick-starts the leather and merry-go-round
without knowing what she has spun.
poems and paranoia - that works MJD
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed this. Loved the conclusion. So often when one kick starts something one does not KNOW what will result!
ReplyDeleteLove this. Good intentions often result in a bad outcome - or so it seems...
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
Divine. A perceptive poem of human nature.
ReplyDelete" The polishing of pride,
ReplyDeleteand the lending of contentment
are all swallowed by her good intentions
saved for unity and motherhood "
My mind spent a bit of time cogitating on the above words. You are always so good with the twisting and turning of words. I look forward to your contribution to Pantry every Sunday!
brilliant word play!
ReplyDeleteseemed like a son's retort to an overbearing father in a dysfunctional family. did I get this right? Intriguing for sure.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure I read this once before, and love it the second time, more. The imagery is strong... the hole we deny digging, the giving away of oneself, the misunderstandings...
ReplyDelete