Gnosis laid bare

aristotleThe tone
of your discourse
public, private, anonymous
shrill, accusatory
non-sequiturs blending
reality, perception, personality
seamless, misguided pastiche
grounded in your justified
fear of being wrong

fear of not being right
fear of differences
fear of those similar, but
who say unfamiliar things
unbecoming via people that
look, seem like you,
aren’t at all, after all

Fear looks at you from your mirror
fearing your helplessness
no faith exists in the impotence of
the unknown, you stare back
through bloodshot eyes,
sneering disbelief of how, why

my country!
my ideas!
my ideals!
mine!philosophersedit
my piety!
my way of life!
my way or get out!

My goodness! You fear
so much based on so little.

Shame on you

self-loathing perpetuating
insecurities as gospel
persuading yourself, few others,
yes your fear is not fear, not hate
something more grounded
reasonable hate coming from others
not vice versa

go back to reflect
thoreauon what the mirror doesn’t show
what you don’t see may surprise you
if it doesn’t, turn out the lights
look again, more closely

refracted darkness is only
fearing what you cannot see
yet you only fear what is unseen
demons imagined; grotesque caricatures
therein lies your dilemma
a dichotomy reflexively reacting to
reflected fear of the benign known,

sinister only because you fear unknowns
leaving you looking for what is there,
in the darkness, peering in return
with skeptical, knowing eyes, staring
at you vacantly with piteous regret

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2017
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Chalk it up to…

Late afternoon, dingychalk1
neighborhood dollar store
picking up essentials:
cleaning supplies, deodorant
AA batteries

Wile E. Coyote
dynamite-sized sidewalk chalk
in handy plastic bucket

at checkout,
mentally rough-drafting
scratchy paeans to my wife
colorful notes she will see
as she departs each day
down front steps, sidewalk

dusty romance
specific, uplifting,
sometimes sexy sendoffs

I, Browning
of pitted concrete

Curious of my
incongruous purchases
smiling, small-talk-makingchalk2
cashier queries;
Grandkids coming?
Hop-scotch?
Teacher who still
has chalkboards?

My reply leaves her
looking quizzical, in doubt
pondering more pedestrian
relationship techniques
lacking any reference
skeptical of sidewalk stanzas

dusty, smudgy, romance
morning devotionals
for long-together lovers

“Not an old school”
I intone
“just ‘old school’”

Collecting purchases,
change, eyebrow-cocking,
appreciative, knowing nod
at my prowess for still knowing
how to make a woman swoon

tomorow, my wife as well

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2017
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

D.N. A-OK

Laboratory confirmationgenome1
my dueling personas,
seafaring-Norse explorers
daring warriors, plunderers
adventure-seekers
fused with diaspora refugees
tenacious, plundered, wary
‘chosen ones’

genetic certainty elucidates
innate predilections to
roam with jaunty impunity
revel in ambiguities

my explorer’s eye
for risk-taking
tempered by well-honed
wry skepticism of faith,
clashing with exploits
sans piety, blithely
eschewing atonement

disparate impulses
enjoined; the time is nigh,
to engender the foe!

Where are we going?
Aren’t we there yet?

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2017
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd