Tuesday, August 26, 2008

April 24

It is daily now that I am struck by the beauty of the world surrounding me.
I have skipped classes for dread of going indoors.
I have seen bees soar above my head in a mating dance
that is intricate and violent
passionate and dangerous.
I have felt the love of the sun on my shoulders until it was seared in.
Only the sting at night to remind me of its warmth in the day.

Sometimes I care so much that it hurts
it overwhelms me
and makes me helpless.
Sometimes I want the relief and refuge of indifference.
The burdenless beauty of self-centeredness.
If only I could pretend that the world was a centrifuge spinning endlessly around me.
That I was the eye of the storm - everyone else an inconsequential raindrop.

It must never hurt to be self-centered.
To never feel the ache of empathy,
the incurable sadness of mourning for another's pain,

the hard sting of beauty

the inadequacy of words.

1 comment:

nckhrkman said...

this one. i want to see this poem rewritten with fewer generalizations and more hockey players. the heart of this poem is really the heart of so much of who you are. please revisit this because i see undercurrents of this theme in some of your other poems, but nowhere as visibly as here.