morning conversation with the mirror

it seems very difficult
to be a thoughtful individual
and yet to preserve dignity.
this morning you were pretty nervous
and every word I've said
you accepted somewhat arrogantly,
just waiting for an opportunity
to spit it all back
into my face.
you didn't let me notice that immediately
so I felt superfluous.

"how can you presume,"
you said,
"that you know everything?
I hope sometime you do allow others
to look at the world with their own eyes
without the persistent grey picture that you paint
with all of your false
claims.
well, perhaps they're not always incorrect
but in most aspects they're excessive and
unnecessary;
and I know you sometimes know how to think
with a  brighter tone.
prove to me why the distrust and dissatisfaction.
so you think you can see everything so wide,
but you still won't dare to open your eyes.
how do you expect to see the world
with eyes closed?
how dare you condemn something
you cannot face?"

I was shocked by your
highly unexpected reaction
so it took me few moments
to gather all the strings
that were suddenly snatched away
out of my hands-
which, until now, I
so confidently held.

"I never wanted to draw the attention
on myself,"  I replied,
"but you are mistaken in something.
my eyes are not closed,
although sometimes I wish I can dig both of them out
knowing that I would still remember the evil
they have seen. and you;
if you only knew how not to be so selfish
you'd give all of yourself away
instead of living the ideals of the dead idols that fell
on their knees.
like a picture removed from the wall
you would sell yourself out with no shame,
only if you'd know
that you are worth at least as much
as a single gram
of a bad dope.
it seems life is not for you with all the absurdity-
yet all of you would like to be the unnecessary
masters of the world-
with no dignity."

"so you think I'm the
unsuitable God's creature?"

"clarify your own response
from that discrete yet sensitive question"

"can't you see where's your poetic culture
taking you?"

"I turned from your path
to the vortex of thinking satisfaction."

"without the basics you're also dragging me
into something that neither one of us
can manage to understand.
you're leaving desperate impression
on me,
I can't handle it ..."

"now I really feel sorry for you.
I used to understand life
just like you, easily,
just as a glass of scotch
that waiter placed in front of me
slowly,
at which I would look with disgust in some way
knowing that it is watered.
although I haven't yet tasted it
I knew that
I wouldn't enjoyed it-
as a result
of a handful of similar experiences."

"I don't understand your so-called
individualism ..."

"well now, indeed, I can't expect
anything more from you.
I don't claim to know everything,
I just wanted to explain
a different view on life
which is not so foreign to those
who look closely to my eye.
one day, I hope you will understand,
I am not a God-given intellectual;
I'm just more than you
human!"

listening to my defence
you noticed the energetic hustle in me
you can no longer restrain
or prevent its apparent transparency
so therefore you decided
to terminate the entire conversation
with the common words
of every prejudiced half-wit:
"you're talking shit."

all this would have passed unnoticed
if only you're not hangover from last night's revelry
and your stubborn assumption that you're infallible,
angrily cursing all morning
on someone else's shadow,
but totally forgetting your own.
you were mad at me, of course ...

you lost your way in life
and now it must be found.











 © Tom Del Braco