"ambivalence" poems
Blade or fingernail
its all the same.
Midnight strokes
I feel all the pain.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
Recovery, Initially, is about knowing; Knowing that change is necessary,
Accepting that your life is not where you want it to be, About facing up to your fears and anxiety
Then taking the first step eventually… When you, and you alone, feel you are ready.
Recovery, Critically, demands pure honesty, requires the utmost integrity
Most Especially, when confronting your past traumas, your history
Though it may make you feel angry, sad and often times guilty
This process is key if you really want to move on, to change truly.
Recovery, Truthfully, is far from easy, It can be fraught with challenges, setbacks, difficulty.
It can hurt physically and even worse emotionally, Testing your will power to the extremity.
It takes great Strength, Courage and Bravery; Determination, Resilience, in the face of adversity
Recovery, Thankfully, need not be a lonely journey, Though you alone must take ultimate responsibility.
There are lots of supports out there happily; from good friends, family and in your community
Though it can be hard to ask for help, understandably…Let not pride undermine your recovery.
Recovery, Ultimately, is about getting where it is you want to be, about starting anew daily
About achieving realistic goals you have set regularly, Learning from the process; what worked successfully
Starting to believe in yourself gradually, Gaining an insight into what you are capable of ...potentially
Finally, Recovery is for all, a lifelong journey, Guarding against ambivalence, relapse, constantly.
Knowing that every day will, in reality, pose real threats for you in your recovery
But every day also presents an opportunity… to engage with, enjoy, your life more fully.
May 19, 2023
May 19, 2023 at 12:59 PM UTC
walking through the woods i was surrounded by a plethora of golden bronze amber leaves tumbling in the wind sparkling with a star fire that evanesced from their jagged edges upon their descent. i stood entranced, mesmerized, utterly hypnotized by their glorious magnificence. i observed with intensity as a golden bronze amber leaf never having been attached to the majestic tree had no need to let go but gently released. feeling no trepidation it wholly lacked desire for manipulation to control the forces of the wind. i watched in awe and wonder realizing that it never disengaged from the tree knowing that separation is an illusion; it simply became the wind. whirling it shimmered in the autumn sun as it wafted with no need for reins allowing its destination to unfold. gingerly cascading it settled tenderly on the ground resting comfortably in ambivalence. i sensed it did not cringe when it was picked up by an unsuspecting boot but intuitively knew immediately that it was being carried and dropped off serendipitously at an auspicious location. i listened to it intently and drank in its essence as it simply lay in being not obsessing over what would happen consequent but sat in sheer stillness seemingly encompassing all totality. i was stunned to see that it lingered without judgment in undivided clarity for what wild synchronicity would come. it quenched its thirst in mystery while being completely at home in uncertainty. the golden bronze amber leaf seemed one with all that is while simultaneously retaining awareness of self-perception. as a gentle gust of wind coalesced with the beige fall sky it literally merged with the momentum enjoying the ride to its perfect destination. with delicacy it rested cozily in ambiguity whispering to me that heaven is a state and not a place. i vow surrender to black and white existence pledging fearlessly to climb higher creating life with vivid vibrancy adding golden bronze amber to my palette of colors with which i’ll paint.
©2016 janetaylor
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
You'll be initiated,
when you are ready.
Life knows,
and the initiation rites
are waiting.
Where you are holding,
you will be broken.
Where you've lost heart,
you will be shaken.
Where you are careless,
you'll meet your neglect.
What you are averse to,
will be total and stark.
What you are attached to,
will be pried from your grips.
Ignorance will be
wrought with vision,
a burning,
to make you see.
You are loved so much
that you will be engulfed in
the flames
of loves fire,
in order to
ignite your own
hearts flames,
and fulfill loves destiny.
Alchemical change will ensue,
destroying you,
to make way for
new love.
Licked by some Hellish ordeal,
Ambivalence gives way to Engagement,
Rage engenders Clarity,
Anxiety becomes Inspiration,
Apathy roars into Feeling,
Melancholy imbues it's Depth,
Licked by some Heavenly delight.
Phoenixed, you'll fly,
the hero of your own journey,
wielding revelatory fire,
with great Wisdom
and Compassion,
a Gestalt,
anew.
The circle closes,
it is a spiral,
to the beginning,
of another
Circle.
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
Why aren’t your eyes--- there?
In two places--- where water should be?
Moldy residue--- absence of vision, tears
From those bullet holes--- you ought to see--- your own ambivalence
Fall down my cheek
Terrifying--- Me, with nothing for both us
Automaton, my weakness
Intellect, disease
You’re my body
Cage
You're my spirit
Doubt
Justice and horror--- within, without
Jan 4, 2011
Jan 4, 2011 at 6:53 PM UTC
The voice I hear is ruminating in my head,
that treacherous depart was wounded instead of behead.
How I long for this pain to leave akin the December sky,
this imminent glory was only dreamed about in disguise.
How persuasive the universe was to the story,
it did not project the upcoming fury.
Of a devious bequeath that upheld the tantrum,
the sky soared with anger until its utter collapse.
When a drop of water fell from the engorging sky;
it dropped thousands of miles beneath,
until it splattered like a human who couldn’t breathe.
This anger spread like a wildfire, infecting all those longed desires.
The heart of which pumped no more blood,
Became equivalent to a plant breathing through a frozen sun.
Nature believed there were no further storms,
until the quarrel beneath was profoundly explored.
Through the bodies sensation one could not ignore,
made the heartache of this man’s soul.
Oh why are humans so weak.
Must the sun anger the kindness soul,
For I had only hoped for evermore.
Was I a victim who loved no more?
Or an open heart waiting to explore?
This journey could not be real,
however, it became nurturing to one’s appeal.
The ignorance disguised as love evidently appeared,
as the devil danced around as one had feared.
Ambiguous to the commonality of faith,
that created an ambivalence that aroused distaste.
The traitor became her experience and ego her age,
I was in love with a spiritual woman of a certain year of age.
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
Somewhere in your wardrobe, I'd be willing to bet
There's a t-shirt probably bearing the silhouette of Che Guevara
He was revolutionary, yeah, he wore a cool hat
But behind the design I think you might find it's not quite as simple as that
Che was a bit of a homophobe, Che was a bit of a homophobe,
I think... apparently.. who knows?
Che was a bit of a homophobe, Che was a bit of a homophobe
This is my song in defence of the fence
A little sing along, a anthem to ambivalence
The more you know, the harder you will find it
To make up your mind, it, doesn't really matter if you find
You can't see which grass is greener
Chances are it's neither, and either way it's easier
To see the difference, when you're sitting on the fence
Somewhere in your house, I'd be willing to bet
There's a picture of that grinning hippy from Tibet - the Dalai Llama
He's a lovely, funny fella, he gives soundbites galore
But let's not forget that back in Tibet, those funky monks used to **** the poor, yeah
And the Buddhist line about future lives is the perfect way to stop the powerless rising up
And he tells the poor they will live again, but he's rich now so it's easy for him to say
I'm taking the stand in defense of the fence
I got a little band playing anthems to ambivalence
We divide the world into terrorists and heroes
Into normal folk and weirdos
Into good people and pedo's
Into things that give you cancer and the things that cure cancer
And the things that don't cause cancer, but there's a chance they will cause cancer in the future
We divide the world to stop us feeling frightened
Into wrong and into right and
Into black and into white and
Into real men and fairies
Into status quo and scary
Yeah we want the world binary, binary
But it's not that simple.
And your dog has a bigger carbon footprint than a four wheel drive
Yea your dog has a bigger carbon footprint than a four wheel drive
And your dog has a bigger carbon footprint than a four wheel drive
And so does your baby, maybe you oughta trade HIM in for a Prius-
ROCK!
I'm taking the stand in defence of the fence
I got a little band playing tributes to ambivalence
We divide the world into liberals and gun-freaks
Into atheists and fundies
Into tee-tot'lers and junkies
Into chemical and natural
Into fictional and factual
Into science and supernatural
But it's actually naturally not that white and black
You'll be
Dividing us into terrorists and heroes
Into normal folk and weirdos
Into good people and pedos
Into things that give you cancer and the things that cure cancer
And things that don't cause cancer, but there's a chance they will cause cancer in the future
We divide the world to stop us feeling frightened
Into wrong and into right and
Into black and into white and
Into real men and fairies
Into parrots and canaries
Yeah we want the world binary, binary - 011101!
The more you know, the harder you will find it
To make up your mind, it doesn't really matter if you find
You can't see which grass is greener
Chances are it's neither, and either way it's easier
To see the difference
Cause it's not that simple...
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 7:06 PM UTC
Out in the desert there is silence --
The mountains blinding ambivalence
As white as the bones within.
Slipping out the rocks, more rocks
Come the unbending tongues of time, satisfying
The antemortem joy once again.
The sun holds the sky, the whitest wing
The earth holds the rest, all of your thoughts
And the rain.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 1:43 AM UTC
Well I was skilled in body language
And you were skilled in breaking hearts
So close in heart,
Yet so far apart.
Souls connected,
Hands touched.
Remember this moment.
Remember the feelings
Remember your lies,
Yet remember how I am perfectly fine.
We can go back to the ambivalence of the times,
The innocent liquor,
That one night where I could say you were mine.
You were my new muse,
An alternate soul.
Did I love you?
Not even close.
Did I want to lose you?
No.
In your youth you probably shan't learn who you are yet,
But I feel sorry for you.
It will hit you like the ****** falling through the mast of your ships.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
When I look out from the smudged and cracked windows of home,
I know there's no place quite the same as right here;
No place I could find that quite catches my ear,
And no place quite the same that can swallow my fears,
To the depths of this heated and comfortable box,
In which I am protected by numerous locks,
From intruders and bandits,
Salesmen and clerks;
I am the legal intruder,
And for me, that's what works.
Yet I'm here when, in fact, I am meant to be there;
Not far from my home,
I'm meant to be learning whats fair.
I am meant to be learning what's right and what's wrong,
Yet 6 hours of my time a day seems quite long,
To be spending on verbs, nouns and pronouns,
On algebra, fractions, and abnormal word sounds.
This life is not theirs; this life is all mine,
Such an old and used system would appear to be right,
Yet I beg to differ, as revolution now squeaks,
To push through the systems cracks and cause leaks,
In which free-thinking filters the words of the old,
Who believe themselves better, for they're trained and so bold.
When I look to society, what is it I see?
Is it a throng of a thousand people who seem to be free?
Not quite, yet at the same time, that seems quite close,
They are free in a box, in which authority is the host.
*"Civilization has to be defended against the individual,
And its regulations, institutions and commands are directed to that task."**
Quite an obvious command,
And it seems that at last,
Man is learning to embrace what they each see as free;
And it does not simply stop at being free to simply be,
It goes beyond such in mind, matter, soul, and in trust;
For it is the systems denial,
Towards which I lust.
The institutions, and nations,
Corporations, news stations,
Stateism, classism, all attempt to control,
Who I am, what I do, where I go, who I meet;
They tell me to relax, and just take a quick seat;
Yet I know what I want from life is free feet,
To be who I am,
And take all the heat.
To do what I do,
And ignore what's 'elite.'
To go where I go,
And control, as such, my feet.
To meet who I meet,
And next to them, take a seat.
I am not a name,
And I am not a number.
I am always awake in my mind,
As I slumber.
Oct 18, 2010
Oct 18, 2010 at 10:58 AM UTC
There is exemplary synergy in Nature
Coexistence of the birthed life
It’s a wonder for the wanderers
We try to create an imbalance
By our negligence and ambivalence
Bound and cloaked in this invisible bond
We are at risk of alienating ourselves
Severing ties with the lifeline
We cannot decipher the rich synergy
Mortals we all are, but some, lesser mortals
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 2:04 AM UTC
i caught
the midnight sky
winking at me
as i walked
out the front door;
its clouded lid
falling upon
that bright
but waning eye
for the briefest
of moments
it is hard
to know
if this was
a gesture
of endorsement
a translunary "attaboy"
of encouragement
to keep walking
this path
less travelled
or an accusatory
reassurance
despite
the ambivalence
that my secrets
would be kept
by this
ever-watchful
stellar companion
Aug 4, 2022
Aug 4, 2022 at 8:06 AM UTC
You were speaking in a different tone
and your words weren't the same.
I could tell the second you answered
and yet you doubt my abilities.
Anger pulses through my blue veins,
longing to find something, anything.
They say that hate requires more energy
than loving someone does,
but darling, how badly I wish it required less.
All day long, I've been smiling more than usual
and singing to myself until you came around.
Positivity does nothing for me when it is
up against the pollution of your love.
I am slamming my fingers on the keyboard
wishing that it was the soft flesh covering
your fragile bones I sometimes love to caress.
I am screaming inside of my mind
and no one, no one is hear to listen but me.
My blood has reached the boiling point
and it's all spilling, spilling, spilling
into bittersweet ambivalence.
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 11:07 PM UTC
spoon fed my keepsakes as nothing blots the sun so much
you teach me how to cringe in spun sugar. the nape of your
neck.
gleefully, we usurp the thicket of our mild dementia. sullen
joy equipped. a sumptuous dirge curdles the myth, your fins
***
as troubadours, we malinger in the pith of our blunt fruit. crust
removed from our daily bread. our basket of basilisks, bathe
in stone.
duel wielding our gazebos... we bivouac in our ambivalence, by
turns we move. you tip toadstools as i milk maidens for their
candelabras.
our palominos run. we do
violence to timpani and click mice.
pc
drifting in the cyberwocky. we transit the binary auto-bond
and paste
whats
clip.
blue thumbs thread cranberry noose. our ***** nods off. fronds
of juniper and cannabis slap the window pane. throughwhich
a *** mouse pounced on frond’s sway.
startled, we move the furniture of our eastern proclivities.
for thine is the kingdom
of our discontent !
swing-shift lap-dogs, trundle west of the east village. smell
of ****** and nag champa. idiots sting.
idiots braid zodiacs with greasy fingers. [ indeed ]
and
you
preach from your gut...
( your left breast marvelous with taint) and saltwater taffy.
we
laugh again-
at things we have
and now
only
harbor ghosts
where the rain
should have
been.
should have
been.
should have
been.
should have
been.
should have
been.
should have
been.
this is the new
intimacy.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 7:03 AM UTC
Scale the walls of knowledge, if you will, my Western friend of ambivalence.
But, before we leap into the crevasse of botanical diversity, it is important that we understand that the smoke reveals beings which traverse physical paths of obscurity.
So, we must relax and give careful attention to the details with which we presume to be confronted.
Interpretation is a concept that reminds me of chocolate-covered mint fondant.
It is all in the power of the suffix, don't you think?
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
I know sometimes I’m a little obsessive
Some might call it bipolar depressive
Random mood swings causing me to become manic obsessive
Shifts in energy changes making me become impulsively energetic
Got my mind spinning around causing me a psychotic racing catatonic lack of awareness
So used to being told to calm down by my family and old therapist’s
Now I’m just living and learning off of my own failures and life lessons
Creating my own values and building towards a better impending prospective future with all these thoughts, ideas, different reasons and reactions
Moments of self worth can often start to feel fleeting due to daily life experiences and my own expressions
Followed by changes in feelings and mixed emotional ambivalence
Rarely opening up to people because, I feel vulnerable and misunderstood constantly stressing
But the few times I do is when something about them resonates with me making me feel calm, safe and accepted
I believe it’s because of my past trauma, I have to try everyday to be a soul survivor
Old coping mechanisms through past risky behaviors shattered recking havoc
Drugging and drinking to drown out these demons
In the depths of despair, my inner demon finds solace, a dangerous comfort I must avoid
Getting back up on my own two feet going to meetings after meeting
Late insomniac nights with thoughts never fully slowing down
Followed once again the next day I can’t seem to drown out all of the sounds
All these troubled thoughts restless I am
A soul survivor I fight, but I often find it hard to stand
Picking myself back up
I’m just a man searching for a way to feel human again
Oct 17, 2023
Oct 17, 2023 at 1:37 PM UTC
Greens and gold of lattice work cascading down the tree,
This epiphyte, so infinitely, delicately free.
A lattice work of green finesse, a miniature Cezanne
With exquisiteness of spiky bloom embellishing it’s charm.
Cascading down the grizzled trunk of gnarled and twisted hand
The hosting ancient Kamahi looms loftily, so grand.
Looms aloft with leafy bough so softened by the show
Of ruffled, pinkish bottle brush amassing high and low.
Hordes of buzzing, bumble bees so clumsy in their way,
Tumbling from flower to flower collecting nectar’s day.
With afternoon the waning sun lies hot on sultry air
And little girls in pretty frocks skip by with not a care.
Summer grasses long and dry stand statuesque and straight
With sweet laburnum’s perfumed heads a nodding by the gate.
Young heifers graze in clover in the dell down by the brook
And the fantail dances daintily seeking insects in the nook
There’s a special, quiet majesty pervading here, so fair
With the thistledown afloat, so still with golden motes in air.
Fills my soul with gentle feeling and a rolling tear, unplanned,
For this blend of quiet ambivalence through my beauteous rural land.
Marshalg
“Foxglove” Taranaki.
NEW ZEALAND.
19 January 2014
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
I called a friend of mine,
you see I've always scratched her back
you know and she's scratched mine.
What makes me crazy is that
she's always one to take,
she's always on the make.
You gimmie and grab
and turn around and gouge
out my eyes,
you talk real ****
you don't answer any of my whys.
My thousands of whys.
Well so long now,
sorry but I got to go...
Yes so long, it's been a slice,
shaking loose of you is like
putting down a vice.
Golden earrings and pretty bobbles
couldn't clean up your act.
You've walked barefoot across the floor, broken fragments of glass,
everywhere, and you were there,
but, oh so was I.
I was there too
I've given you my very best,
yes I've given you my very best,
and what do I get?
I get treated worse than all of them,
worse than all the rest.
I wish I could remember
if it was a movie or if
I heard it in a dream.
It doesn't matter much now,
Because when
I see you coming
I just want to leave.
Just like Dylan said, "A whole lot of people dying tonight
from the disease of conceit."
I've tried taking you aside
and softly admonishing you,
that ended in a stalemate,
what good did it do..
You wore my Austrailian hat and battered it black and blue.
You took my painting and threw away the frame,
I lend you money
and you drink it away.
I don't talk about drawing a line,
I just do it and
if you're in you're right mind
you won't cross it
unless you really want
the **** to hit the fan.
This conflict, I must confess,
well it can make me cry.
every time you
turn around
you're telling me another lie.
I feel a lot of ambivalence .
I don't want to hear you any more.
Some times I think I want silence,
some times I think I want to even the score.
Man, I am on
cloud nine,
look what anger does,
as if I'm in a fight.
I just get to average,
but by no means normal,
the only normal I have found
is the cycle on a washing machine.
I'm not sinkin' in a hole
that was dug real deep by you,
thinking
this old world is all ****** up
and
you don't want to play the game,
You'd just end up leaving me,
so sad and feeling so full of shame.
Do you love me, let me count the ways,
it's not that I don't care,
it's not that I don't want to be there.
I just don't know any more...
what's that sound
telling me I have fix it,
that I have to
put it right.
Now you're looking
to put me down,
always wanting
to start a fight.
You're acting so abstract,
while with me it's so 'as a matter of fact'.
Knowing no one has even half the answers.
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 1:44 AM UTC
(history)
Quell the bard was silken-clad and ever young.
her flute connected earth and sky,
tamed lightning in the higher notes..
her ancient horse would winnie to her song
of endless breath she blew her story even into stone.
having borne the stigmas of a *****
her martial prowess struck,
trampled disrespect to cacophonic dust
while over hills and vales he carried her--
a love-sick equine heart at peace at last upon the road
between her thighs, commanded loyalty of beasts and men.
none claimed her for their own,
though some risked instant death to try
..stirge beaks tap on bones and rock
to seek corrupted blood of elven kings,
who having reigned and fallen
to a royal troglodyte of dragon times,
paint each eon with ambivalence...
i conjure what my heritage beholds
--reclusive double-tongue to hoard all words,
reinvent religions for a lark
what legend am i privy to the making of
that hasn't had its underwires stripped,
hung about a square in lewd display of Fact
to purge a sense of mystery awry?
i am alone within my fantasy.
its symbols still mythologize my i.
i will not bare it here, or anywhere--
concealment is its freedom, and its boon--
in which a frame of tenuous material appears
where antidote addictions cycle musically,
the timeline's summoning
a game of recompense, compensating wanderlust
won by whim and licorice for thought;
it finds familiarity untamed--
adolescent anchorage aweigh--
adventures into wildernesses lost
.
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 1:56 PM UTC
Baron wastelands sound the trumpet in the midst of the ghetto, where sobriety gathers in connected ambivalence.
Acknowledge the animism within naturopathic spirituality. I urge you to have explicit *********** with unfamiliar prostitutions, whilst political prowess ingests her toxicities in the guise of oratory genius.
The expulsion of vanity is haunting in its reverence.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 2:52 PM UTC
Welcome to 5:15am
And I'm so calm
And so prepared
Having changed into pajamas
Out of pajamas
And into a sweater
That I wear too often
Made for men;
Or made for me.
And despite the summer
Despite the desert
Outside is a cold black
Misleading
Considering the thermometer
Reading a cozy 80
Because here, the night coddles you
Like a blanket
And wraps you in something
Anything it can find
And during this hot rainy season
Something sticks to your clothes
To the cuticles of your hair
And you smell like whatever the day
Brought to you.
Welcome to 5:21am
And you haven't been outside yet
But you've changed into pajamas
That don't terribly embarrass you.
And when you finally go outside,,
You'll be getting out of a car
And walking into a hospital
Maybe legs shaking
(I don't know,
You haven't been there yet.)
And you try to calmly wait
While people you don't know
Stick you with things
One of which will knock you out
And you wake up with
Cuts in your body
From taking out the sickness
That's real this time
And tangible
And actually comes from your gut
And actually makes you
Look yourself in the eye
And *****
It's 5:26am
And the pain is starting again
And the ambivalence of today
Hangs on my hair
And my clothes
Until they put me under
And I really have no option.
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
I look inside my skeleton
Love-hate bulging
eyes out of my face
Two warts of ambivalence
I want to hug my skeleton
Heart twitching in a rib-cage
Admire the asymmetry
of every piece broken
Dear beautiful skeleton
In veins runs the river
In a stream of excitement
I flood in disappointment
I talk to my skeleton
I tell it that I love it
Rub my head against it
Lungs violently sighing
I believe in you, skeleton
in the blood of your tongue
A kick in the stomach
Everything is working
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 3:32 PM UTC
He touched our hands
But unconcernedly this famous man
And would not look us in the eye
For fear of contact or what might be worse, connection
And we could hardly blame him, for after all
He had each day been singled out for close inspection
By ones like us, in awe of his celebrity
Circled in the shade of his perfection
Hoping for the star-dust sprinkle of acuity
Or sparkling eyes, admission to his inner cult and clan
He wore blue jeans
And scuffed sneakers as a badge of proof
Of his coolness and unconcern
While we his audience with concealed attention
Enviously eyed his hairy confidence, unconsciously
Imitating in each phrase that low convention
Made small adjustments to our store-bought suits and ties
And nodded several times in bright pretension
Made small amendments to our smiles and lies
Flicked photo-phones in pursuit of custom and routine
He gave a speech
A flippant interview, this famous creature
A well tossed phrase, a rounded cliche
Poured forth like brandy in a glass, convivial
Or apple cider-ed vinegar in pewter mugs
A sardonically French-accented phrase habitual
Well humored, heavy lidded with testosterone
At interlocutor women with the pens and pads
Delivered in a low and purring monotone
For all the world as lovers, each to each
He stretched a smile
A modulated shift of teeth and beard
"Genius? Not I" with deprecation
"My shallow intellect, so poor and so ephemeral"
Delivered in a tone that mocked inclusion
While we assumed an elegance, unintentional
A nonchalance that shields the wide charades
Unmoving in our breathless, but conventional
Genuflection to the the notion that pervades
Our addictive appetite now sated. For a while.
He kissed their cheeks
And stroked their arms, with sensuous ambivalence
But absently, as if he cared so little
In his farewell. 'A bientot' he said and 'Au revoir'
And slipped away amongst the moving Milan crowds
Creative and creator, irredeemably a star
With, in his wake the smiling scriveners staring
At his retreating back in Stark excitement
In the middle of the circling and squaring, at
The alpha-wolfic effigy. The Shepherd and his sheep.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 6:46 AM UTC