Tangled

Sometimes I get tangled up with everyday life.

One fine, straight cotton thread becomes entwined

around my family, work, children and economic situation.

Once it was easy to thread a needle and get to work as I please

now the loop is twisted and turned upon itself around others

and then back to me.

The more I try to pull away from it the tighter it becomes.

Like those poor sea lions and marine animals caught up in plastic

fishing lines cutting into their own skin

around mouths, restricting movement until they starve to death

Could I cut myself out?

What would be left of me?

The thread is cutting off chunks of flesh

surely there won't be much of myself left

the tangle is too tight to be unthread.

Nobility

Vagrant dressed in dark rags

he walks with his dead limbs against his side,

his face shrouded by unexpressed suffering.

What woes has he seen?

To make him become this sketch of a man.

He takes off his crown and kisses the ground

no one sees him but me

no one to call him mad,

his boots heavy, shuffle upon his holy land

he walks towards the infinite sea his dark face glaring blankly

acting out a pagan salute to the gods of the earth

his rite of passage before departure.