Sunday, January 25, 2009

Poem: Wind Bag

Written unexpectedly a few weeks ago because I worry and also hold a low opinion for those who it behooves to play the part of what they are not.


Wind Bag


Pretends he’s enlightened

When the light barely flicks

He will sprinkle his musings

With some few choice-word picks

The soul of an artist?

I think not, no way

His clumsy conclusions

Barely mask what they may

From within threatening aura

An abuser implies

What she sees in this fool

While the truth she denies

Cook up the fictions

And set out to sail

The picture might focus

Into fullest detail

A surface illusion

And the warnings seem clear

In the bounce that she’s taken

There is much she should fear


Copyright SGW 2009

2 comments:

paisley said...

i have been among those that choose blindness over seeing.. i know i would return there if given the opportunity,, and it is for that very reason i remain alone....

glad you posted this... i need to see it thru someone else's eyes sometimes......

Unknown said...

This is one thing I truly enjoy about being a poet. I would not have thought to tie this piece to you in anyway, yet you have chosen to see in the feminine part of these lines yourself, and that intrigues me.