Poor Form (reprise) 12/13/07

A tantrum is
never persuasive,
a breach of trust
rarely reconciled.

Wild, frightful words,
angry and bitter,
like a bucket of
jilted pit vipers,
hurled with careless
and reckless desperation.

All of the accusations,
all of the judgment
and discontent
misdirected upon others
rather than upon yourself.

I understand
the disappointment.
I understand
the frustration
and the bewilderment,
no matter that
you brought it
upon yourself
with a warped
and flagrantly delusional
outlook
and approach.

But I do understand.
I understand
that you are unhappy
and angry
with yourself
and ready to lash out
at something,
someone,
anything,
anyone.

And then
the inevitable remorse
jumps
on your back
and sinks its teeth
deep into your psyche.

I understand.
I understand
the disappointment
and the frustration
and the bewilderment
and the anger
and the remorse.

But there is never
ever an excuse
for poor form.

Keep your wits
and behave
like a man.

Poor form
is inexcusable.

Running in the Rain

running in the rain
I slide and glide,
losing myself in
the moment,
unconsciously
not trying
to make the effort
and the agony,
the child-like elation
in things like
running in the rain,
the most natural
manifestation of
who I really am

Redux

I'm back.  I have no real excuse for my absence.  I just got a new computer.  (Thank you, sweetheart!)  And I'm ready to jump back in.  So here goes...