It is a curious thing to watch a friendship implode–
the steady flying-apart of atoms of affection
as smiles turn to grimaces and conversation to silence
A curious thing
to watch the radioactive waste of their rage
inch through humming gatherings
twisting camaraderie into repulsion
and poisoning all those who come in contact
It is–not beautiful
(for there is nothing so far from beauty
as when brothers live in discord)
the inescapable schadenfreude
over so many little things turned from joy to rejection.
perhaps there is a cure for the fallout. I wouldn’t know.
It is a curious thing
to watch the nuclear winter
Recommended Listening: We Are Not as Strong as We Think We Are, Rich Mullins
I am Medusa
Unlovely, unloving, unloved
Unguarded in grief gainst reflections in brass
Unshorn of my fierce locks when life is then past.
I am the guerdon of women outcast;
the victims. No flesh will decay where I bite.
I am the serpent that guards in the night.
I am the face which destroys in the light.
I am Helena
ungainly, unshapely, unloved
Unheeding the dangers of leaf and of root
as I chase my beloved, the handsome uncaught
Demetrius, careless of all my desire
Where once he looked fondly, now he glances ire
I am the victim of unrequite fire.
I am Arachne
the spinner, the spider, unloved
Unable to gain grace by face or by form
But skill births admirers, removing the scorn
by warp-and-weft beauty to keep lovers warm.
Too high did I aim; my offense was unwise
I am the victim of flashing grey eyes;
I am the spinner in hideous guise.