Poem: Lament

 

 Lament

 

flat on my back,

a spread star fallen to its grave,

unknown to a wish,

i wonder

why watermarks on cotton fiber

and roses and wine

and charmed tears are a status most people

will never know,

i wonder

why i am so special

as Ethiopian ribs replace skin

while i whine about the best word for a poem

that ends up as hors d’oeuvres

for a few ruthless eyes.

 

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1/22/24 ... removed the second stanza of the poem, which appears below.  I was always on the fence about it, at best, as it doesn't fit the flow and is 'obvious.'

..

i wonder though it is useless to wonder,

i wonder because it is useless to wonder,

i wonder for i am forced,

and i am forced because i will not hide

from how much i hate god.

Poems like this allow me to love god as much as I hate god.  Honesty is double-edged.