My Dream
The Portrait
My life never forgave me
For killing my dream
During such a crucial time,
In my senior year of high school
That summer
When my dream was about to emerge.
I locked up the memory.
In my deepest thoughts
And would not revel it.
Though I could feel it
When I was sleeping
With the vivid picture in my mind
A soft happy life with nice friends and family
Suddenly I stabbed it
Without another thought
And shamed myself
In my 24 year I can see my dream again
Burning strong as ever.
My mother never forgave my father
for killing himself,
especially at such an awkward time
and in a public park,
that spring
when I was waiting to be born.
She locked his name
in her deepest cabinet
and would not let him out,
though I could hear him thumping.
When I came down from the attic
with the pastel portrait in my hand
of a long-lipped stranger
with a brave moustache
and deep brown level eyes,
she ripped it into shreds
without a single word
and slapped me hard.
In my sixty-fourth year
I can feel my cheek
still burning.
-Stanley Kunitz
Passage From Au lector
Ignorance, error, cupidity, and sin
Possess our souls and experience our flesh
Habitually we cultivate remorse
As beggars entertain and nurse their lice
Our sins our stubborn. Cowards when contrite
We overstuff confession with our pains
And when we’re back again in human mire
Vile tears, we think, will wash away our stains
Thrice-potent Satan in our cursed bed
Lulls to sleep our spirit over kissed
Until the precious metal of our will
Is vaporized - that cunning alchemist
Who but the devil pulls our waking strings
Abominations lure us to their side
Each day we take another step to hell
Descending through the stench, unhorrified.
Like an exhausted rake who mouths and chews
The marytrized breast of a withered whore
We steal in passing whatever joys we can
Squeezing the driest orange all the more
Packed in our brains incestuous as worms
Our demons celebrate in drunken gangs
And when we breathe hat hollow wrasp of death
Sliding invisibly into our lungs
If the dull canvas of our wretched life
Is unembellished with such pretty ware
As knives or poison, pyromania, rape
It is because our souls are to weak to dare!
But in this den of jackals, monkey, curs
Scorpions, buzzards, snakes- this paradise
Of filthy beasts that screech, howl, grovel, grunt-
In this menagerie of mankind’s voice
There’s one supremely hideous and impure!
Soft spoken, not the type to cause a scene,
He’d willingly make rubble of the earth
And swallow up creation in a yawn.
I mean Ennui! Who in his hookah dreams
Produce hangmen and real tears together
How well you know this fastidious monster, reader
- Hypocrite reader, you – my double! My brother!
BASKETBALL
Inspired by Passage from Au lector
Fidgety, error, foolishness, and misses
Enter our body and run our mind.
We try and get away from these four
As players play and nurse their knees.
Our plays are stubborn. Timid when in a fight
We over force accidents with our glory
And when were back in the game
Near misses push us away.
Deadly shooter on our court
Stays so still until it’s over
Until our chances of wining disappear
Who but the offense slices through?
Amazing plays draw us aside
Each day is another loss
Going through the rumors irrelevant to the world
Like a tired car
The other team remains there
We try to take it whatever we can afford.
Squeezing the lay-ups oh so much more
Pushing forward in our brains
They rest and relax for us to come again
And when we gasp for a breath that breath means loss
Sliding into our brains
In the scheme of things
It is unimportant
Like ants outside, and moths up high
It is because our game is so weak to dare
But between Sparc, and D.A.
Backstabbers, liars, and thieves do emerge.
Of filthy teams that yell and holler
In this mockery of a voice
There is one worst than them all
Immature, not the type to cause a scene
They would willingly slaughter us to a pulp
And beat all others in a wink.
YES! I mean Ravenscroft who in their dreams
Produce victory one after another
How well we know this treacherous team
We do the same as them; we are their doubles.