(in)famous people

If every success-
ful person was tortured young-
should they be great-full ?




Image of painting by Christian Krohg [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Just passing through

You are going to think
I am out of my mind but
sometimes
I pretend I am a tourist
in my town....
Just a traveler passing through
time and place, spacetime and outside
myself.

I examine the flora and fauna,
trees, blades of grass, the dress
of the locals
as though I've never been here before.

I watch the people on the streets, mid-week
converse or casually pass by
with warm smiles
and think it must always be sunny here.

I see dayworkers, most of which
nice enough, don't live here.

The police are all pleasant, people
drive generously,
children are clearly safe
on the streets with all
wheels welcome-
what a world they've made here.

A parade is about to begin,
Homecoming, again.
Art murals on walls,
scenic electric boxes,
cute painted fire hydrants
let no spot
be unbeautified-what a place!

Then I see me
driving around, doing errands,
chores, walking, sitting, reading,
and every time
I think-
It is clear as day,
there is no way 

she is local,
she is not from here.
But look-
she sees me watching, 

she's the only one
aware I'm there.
She smiles,
not like them,
and is clearly miles away.




Image by Robert Payton Reid, 'A summer's daydream' c. 1896 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

What Nots and What Have Yous

A-lone
which is not by It-self
we are not
hungry for hollow bread
Satisfied
we are not
as they are.

Ex-posed
to the elements,
sheltered from the cold-
blooded nature of time,
we are not
afraid to gather together.

No-body
taking a place
at an empty table
we are not
waiting any-more
for second(s),
when years will only do.

Rich with excess
Starved to impress
reminiscing to regress
we are not
In-stead of wishing and wanting
we are blessing and yawning
making new batches of Progress
and wiping up spilt regrets.

With indebtedness to our grand Hostess
Here, we take the left-overs
for tomorrows
grand children.
Today
we whet
our appetites
craving nothing more
than what we are not
indulging all the more.



Image of painting by Cornelis Bisschop, circa 1664 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.