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The Doll Party

It was an invitation to a social festivity.
To which my reply was brimming with positivity.
A small discontinuity to living in exclusivity.

On the way, I had already decided not to stay.
Why I am this way? I dare not say.
Above the entryway, there was a sign on display,
“Come in and let’s play the light away.”

Much to my dismay,
There were no people here today.

Replaced by dolls!
Dolls over here dolls over there.
All here to play?

Lifeless bodies yet spirited eyes.
Haunting the room with glass paired stares.
A sinful half existence.
Neither here nor there.
Unholy indulgence, a repulsive air.

I shut my eyes, I stumbled aside.
Yet I could not ignore what I abhor.
I snatched up a porcelain horror.

In the glass I could see, endlessly;
A loop of my reflection looking back at me.
I dropped the mockery.
I turned the wall mirror assuredly;
Expecting to see a doll version of yours truly.

But no.
Truly no.
All I could see was genuinely always me.


The Aberrant Captive

The scene spans distantly, meeting it’s calculated end on all sides.

Streams retain their clarity, returning deposits of dirt to their designated locations.

And in their disciplined freedom, trees chase the brightness of the sky.

What freedom has a wayward soul confounded to wander the muddied wilderness?

A habitat as it were, a home with a single design flaw.

Where all doors are sealed, not an open bedroom remains.

The aberrant captive.

My soul retreats into my daydream. 

Then, I miss the friends I never had.

A Wall of Trees

He continued down the dirt path.
A wall of trees to the left and to the right.

Why do they say if there are no people with you
that then you are alone?
Is humanity so engrossed in conceit?
That their presence is the determinant.

He gazed across the forest.
Is a tree alone when it stands in solitude?

He stared ahead.
Is the apparent path the only path?
Must a path be defined by dirt?
What more is concealed behind the trees?

It is he who stands alone in a crowd who knows no better.
But true companionship knows it’s companion even amidst the absence.

Another Day

I walked into a café.
I heard the man say,
“To you sir a good day.”

“And to you my good man.”
Stroking my beard, I started to scan,
for where my friend would stand.

Together we would laugh and play
in that open field where the sky was never gray.
And the grass was green all day.

I remember the tree in the corner.
I remember the creek on the side.
I found a strange rock.
And about it we began to talk.

“I want you to have it.”
“No you found it, it’s yours.”
“We should share it.”
“I’ll bury it here. Never forget.”

To be a kid again one day,
is to see it end the same way.

And I heard the man say,
“Will your friend be joining you again today?”
“Not today, maybe another day?”

Our Country

They invited you to do what they could not.
They summoned you to do what they would not.
They captured you, they enslaved you.
They needed you.

They brought you to build the nation.
They promised a home; it was supposedly set in stone.
You had a place but without a face.
They reaped the rewards with no mention of you or yours.

Then they said they want “their” country back.
And your place was gone without a trace.

The Pauper and the Nobleman

On the street of a great castle town sits a lone pauper.
Two wealthy men approach and one of them exclaims,
“Please sir, accept a small donation from me. I do not think there is another in town who needs it as much as you!”
The pauper replies, “Thank you kind sir, but I’m afraid you are mistaken. I do not need this money at all! For my friend fulfills all my needs!”
The wealthy man and his traveling companion exchange worried looks,
“Then please accept this from your new friend.”
The pauper stands up and accepts the gift.
“Thank you to my new friend.” They shake hands and the wealthy men continue on their way.

The pauper looks out towards the castle, then he begins walking.
He walks and walks.
The distractions of the town normally do not bother him.
But with the money given to him by his new friend, things begin to stand out.
Some food here.
An attraction there.
Perhaps a nice room to rest in?

But he quickly remembers his friend.
His dear friend is waiting for him.
He must ignore these distractions.
He does not want to miss the meeting with his friend.

He continues passed the town to the castle gates.
He is stopped by the guards.
“Halt! What business do you have here?”
“Esteemed knights, I am here for a meeting with my dear friend.”
“And who is your friend?”
“My friend is the great king himself!”
The guards burst out laughing.
“Has the summer sun fried your brain? The king does not have time for the likes of you.”
“Oh but quite the contrary, my great friend the king has time for all his subjects. He knows about all the goings on and he takes care of everyone in his kingdom. I urge you please, my friend the king is waiting for me. You must let me pass!”

Just then a rider approaches the gate from inside the castle walls.
“You there, guard, open the gate. Do you not know? This is the king’s dear friend. We have been awaiting his arrival!”
The guards are astonished, “Forgive us! We did not know!”
The pauper smiles, “That is quite alright!”

The doors of the throne room are pulled open and the pauper and his escort enter.
The king and members of the court all stand.
The king descends the stairs and greets his dear friend, the pauper, with a hug.
The king announces to the court:

“This is my dear friend. You are to treat him with the highest honor and respect. He has my friendship and my love.”

The members of the court bow their heads in respect. All but one. He holds his head high. His eyes are filled with disdain. He steps forward.

“I am a nobleman. I have served the king my whole life. I stood with him. I sat with him. I have honored him. But he dishonors me. He prefers a pauper over me. I cannot abide this indignation!”

The king retorts:

“I have given you lands. I have given you rank. I have given you status. I have given you power. I have given you servants. I have given you riches. You never sleep hungry. You never stand alone in conflict. Yet I have given him none of these things. I give you, and you ask for more. He is content with my friendship. He loves me even in his current state. He obeys me, he honors me, and he accepts my invitation. He is my true friend. I know who he was, I know who he is, and I know who he can be. These things, you do not know. You have judged him without knowing a thing about him. You have preferred your own judgement over the command of your king. You have openly dishonored me in the presence of the court. You are a disgrace and your true nature is clear. You are hereby stripped of all titles and lands. You are banished from my kingdom.”

The View From Me

The truth is clear.
The lenses are clouded.
It is an observer impaired.
What he knows he fails to see.
A counterfeit reality dancing about.
The senses have distracted the mind.
Gazing out but never in.

An unseen truth, yet I am still a truth.
I am not your friend.
And I will have my day.
I have not hidden myself from you.
You are a victim of your own self.

You are your own deception.