Posts Tagged ‘Self’

Status of Humanity

be diminished by

Past questioned, Look, Voice-

and- Expression- thereby-

To Ev’rything, I give

a portion of Me.

All can say I am of

ample Charity.


But what I mean is-

I commit myself-

to care- for the Things

people care little of.

“The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”- Sylvia Plath

from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

Once I cried from my powder blue room

my wails rising from my crib

like awful birds- beaks targeting ears

at which to peck.


Once I reached inside myself

and found the nerve to kick off the training wheels

and form my own path, unencumbered.


Once I found myself in a four square court

and the ball bounced between me

and people who introduced themselves

as they held that yellow rubber sphere.


Once I looked at the monochrome clock

that crouched, always in the same place,

on the mocha-brown walls of a building

that always smelled of new shoes and Lysol.


Once I found myself in a room-

painted a darker blue, the same

room where that doll-sized impression of myself

used its voice to rouse people from slumber.

Now I can use my voice to do the same,

but in spite of everything,

I take my own initiative

and set forth, out of the crib, onto the street, into the halls

on my own.

The crowds

have only been my friends

when I am not myself,

when I am not under scrutiny.

When I slip into a costume,

a caricature,

I’m not me. Crowds laugh and applaud

and the blood rushes to my head

because if the thrill!

I’m making people happy! I

am astounding them!

Then I step

out of the light,

take off the skin

of someone else,

take off the mask

and step into myself.

I’m ignored.

It’s all improvisation from here

(something I’ve never been

very good at).

The fact remains that, in order

to please a crowd,

I can’t be


Who am I

but a vague mouth

preaching and conversing

to millions of unseen faces

who cannot see the teeth or tongue,

who can only imagine 

the redness,

the whiteness.