Go Figure
The places we chose to put ourselves
willingly, unwillingly.
Past lives linger and we emerge with a scream
spitting the remnant wombs from pursed lips
producing the perennial pucker
the seeking sucking sounds as we search
for this incarnation's tit.
Why does one leave the shelter of wing
the warmth of nest
and with bowed head search the syllabi
of society for meaning from the first scream
while others linger in reminiscence of a lost dream?
Thrown from the warmth of family
the naive can chose to fade, to wilt, to die
or to rise wide eyed center stage
spitting angry ugliness back at the defilers
or smiling sweet dishonesties like overcoats
woolly and warm on a bitter winters day.
Karma its existence a righteous warning
to the wary womb walkers
many paths to take, many horizons
to bridge and neither smile nor scream
may be the proper response
go figure....
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