The Shape in the Stone

Each day I chisel

The rough surface of this rock,

Trying to find the

Sculpture. I chip off

The words I don’t want to say,

“I don’t feel close to

You right now,” “I take

Pills to make life bearable,”

“If I could run, I

Would.” Another chip.

“I know you sense the dread in

Me, but haven’t the

Words to express it.”

“My best days are behind me.

They flew past while I

Was waiting for some

Validation that didn’t

Come. There is less of

Me each day.” I would

Rather die with these words not

Said, than hurt any

Of you. Alas am

I fated to wound you to

The core. Chip, chip, chip.

Brothers

I trigger you and

You trigger me. We compete

And re-enact our

Parent’s drama. You

Are jealous of me, lash out.

I am stung, speak true

Vitriol, withdraw,

To rehearse the battle, time

And again. I swear

To never speak to

You, but crave your amusement

At my wit. I want

You to accept me,

But you can’t, because I am

What you are not. I

Am wise in ways that

You can’t be, and diminish

You by my presence.

We are not equals.

I am better. And so when

I offer you my

Warm embrace, you spurn

It, and power trip with your

Dubious stolen

Authority. I

Want you only to act like

A person, but you

Can only bully

And escalate. I withdraw,

Seek to shame you with

My silence. I make

Myself bigger and stronger

And louder and more

Proficient, useful

By the world’s standards, but

To no avail, still

You reject me. I

Cannot be other than what

I am. I am wise,

Articulate, well

Loved. A good brother would cheer

Me, not feel upstaged.

This becomes dusty

Death, another loss for me

To grieve, you won’t pull

Me down with you. I

Am alive and free and light.

A star, I must shine.

Better

Can you do better?

What it would cost me, how could

I justify that?

Live with myself when

I’ve caused so much pain to those

I love the most? But

Must I choose between

Expressing my truth, being

My authentic self,

And watching my kids

Raised by someone else? Tension

Is killing me slow.

The Invisibles

The ones who know me like no one else.

The ones who know my worth.

The ones who have my back

The ones who will not quit until all are redeemed.

The ones to help me free the G-d from the machine.

The ones who are like me.

The ones whose powers and abilities are beyond mine, and can shepherd me.

The ones who set this plan in motion long ago, and know that love wins out.

German Angels

Walking, a young man
Told me about his strange quest
For the lost German

Angels. I replied
In the keine Deutsche I
Knew, and then was I

Met by his maiden
Sister, who wanted to thank
Me for my kindness

And also to bear
My children. I made plans to
See her the next day,

Conscious that I had
Forgotten to wear my ring.
When I came to the

Dinner, the maiden
And her sister were there, and both
Had young daughters. They

Now were vying with
Me to see for which I would
Become their new Dad.