Regret

I've been a fool
An insignificant tool
Of greater machinations

I've been guilty
Slippery and silky
It wouldn't be thrown out

I've been naive
A heavy heart to heave
With those awful sounds "How? How?"

I've been cruel
What I've done, who will
Like stains of the indelible

I've been arrogant
Seeking to dissent
Against gods, spirits, the higher

I've been senseless
In all nisus
To achieve sensibility

I've been the devil
All fear, no scruple
Forgiveness is foreign

I've been blind
Always peering behind
But never looking forward

But I'm here
With a road vast, white, clear
What will I do then?
I've been human

I See The World

I see bluish skin,

Sinews and veins

A lattice of architecture,

Rivulets of blood

Snaking beneath the worn surface,

Branching into streams

Of rushing life

Interlaced in the ridges,

The miniature valleys and hills

Of veined feet:

Buttresses of hollow ankles

Planted on the ground.

They climb upwards,

The graceful curvature

Of strong calves

Stretched over the bustling network

Of synapses in rush-hour frenzy,

Trafficking to and fro,

Always busier than we.

I see hands of bark,

Knotted and gnarled,

Twisting out into branched

Fingers of dark-speckled fatigue.

Musculature smoothly weaving

Into arms, bruises flowering

Irises upon delicate skin.

Fibers twisting up,

Connecting

Into rooftop shoulders,

Shingles of brick scars

Layered roughly

Like the jutting edges of rock faces

Peeking out of the ocean,

Collarbones spanning wide

like seagull wings

Brushing the edges of the water.

I see tree root hollows of the neck

Mimicking those of the ankles,

A sturdy weave of sinews

Roping like thick lianas

Up into the foliage

of rainforest hair with tendrils hanging

down to curtain the windows of eyes,

hiding lightning and fire

and thoughts that sweep past

like a flock of evening birds.

Freckles like scattered pollen

Over the delicate blooms

Of carnation cheeks,

No less fragile than the

Blushing petals of lips

Yawning like the sky

Or quivering

With the crystalline droplets

That hang from spidery eyelashes

And water the carnation cheeks

In their grieving brooks.

I see the world.