Monday, October 21, 2013

Poetic Interlude: In the Clouds


In the Clouds

 

I bet you think this poem is about you

Because you are

Wrapped in your own being, blinding you from seeing

That your self-consumption is keeping everyone bleeding.

Your lack of reading our minds

clouds your judgment

And you

Skip to the beat of your own drum

Walking on nine clouds the ninth one

Being the dignity I thought was mine…

You stole it.

 

See, I bet you think this poem is about you

Because you are poisoned with a head big enough

To fill the sky and that’s where it is…

You are so far from attached that

Your body parts flail uncontrollable

Like you’re drowning or falling…

As you

Toot your own horn and

Have feelings of grandeur

Your narcissism causes me to feel spiders of cynicism

Escaping my brain

 

I know you think this poem is about you 

Think you are the president when you are really

The assistant

You think you are the leader when you are really the follower’s follower

You think you are the alpha when you are the serpent

Your words pierce souls like knives in tension

Your soldiers resent you because your scent smells like something gone sour

Your laugh…no, no…your cackle makes us shudder

Get your mind out of the gutter

Because you

 

Always think this poem is about you

You think everything is about you and

You wonder why they laugh at you

They think of you as nothing but a pawn

Dude, come on

Your leadership is a joke, your words are nothing we spoke

Action reflects leadership

And we act like we lack hope

You are a thief

A stealer of happiness

You are a liar

A dishonest “other” that thinks he is higher than another

 

Your ego is a poison wrapped up in your arrogance

Seasoned with your fake intimidation

No one is scared of you

 

We are all adults, yet you treat us like your children

She is 3 and I am 2…

You think we owe you something that is past due.

The sight of you makes me pity you.

Your voice makes my ears cry.



You constantly try to control us

Leering over our shoulders like an unwanted lover

Micromanaging is your lust

You intercept our communication

And spike the ball in the core of our confidence.


 
Our fake smiles make you feel comfort

Like you are in a one-man show

When we speak

You lash us with your own words

Silence us with your mental captivity

Drown us with your beady-eyed glare.


 
Yes, this poem is about you…

But don’t feel like you have given us proof.

We talk about you like a fool. We laugh at you like a clown.

You are not a chief.

This poem is about how you let us down.


 
- M. Abla (October 2013)
 

 


 

 

 

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