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BARKING AT ONE'S OWN TAIL
Folder:
JOURNAL#18 the years have managed to wipe such incredible
pain cleanly from my buoyant life
with but sweet, indebted muse
and the gentle swipe of time's all encompassing
hand
Mangus would would be amused by this you know
like an injured picture
we are pressed deeply
into each additional page that we write
indentured servants to our very own creativity
perhaps I need to start seeing with the open
gaze of the soul's clearly non judgmental eyes
and listen with spiritual ears
for the guidance that lives in the life fabric
of those who came before
otherwise I shall become a mitten without
hands to warm or lay claim to the wealthy of
the seemingly well adjusted yet rather more so
only moderately slight
as one mitten would still go missing
but such savvy meter and form has never been my
strong point
I am more so a pirate on these seas of words
who but God and Dickinson could forgive me in
my shoddy self analysis of such pathetic faux
irrepressibly attached
why to even my worst feeble attempts at poetry
they draw me closer somehow
to my mark you might say
it is an elusive ailment of the complex catch
all mind
no doubt
the mother of all hummers!................
(June 8, 1998)
