Poem: Graduation

At your graduation,
I clapped
when your name
was called.
I remembered
how proud I was to
receive that rolled-up
diploma written in Gothic font.

I collected
a family of sheepskins,
thought it would bring happiness,
all it got me were
luxury cars,
tacky designer clothes
and a bigger and bigger house
to store all my vanity in.

It was all a vicious delusion,
society’s definition of success,
a hamster’s spinning wheel.

I was tired of the endless grind,
the need to impress, to sell myself,
so I stopped appeasing it.

I began a journey of humility
and simplified my life.
I re-evaluated adulthood
and where I wanted to go.
I found it without searching,
without the need to acquire more.

©️mft

Crow Tuesday: Therapist Garden

I have a garden

full of baldheaded,

bifocaled therapists

with sofas, chairs

and shelves of esoteric books.

I water them once a day

with my problems and concerns,

fertilize them

with plenty of pain

and angst.

I make sure

they have sufficient sunlight

to jot down notes,

and plenty of space to say:

What would you

like to talk about?

And, that’s all the time

we have today.

I prune the issues

I worked through,

weed the therapists

who lose their

objectivity,

and compost

all my childhood

memories.

Poem: Unfamiliar Spaces

Dreams,
smokey nights
in darkened rooms
with relatives
mixed with friends
and enemies

Dreams,
anxious and
surreal, caught between
narrow walls, thick bars
and fences
with barking dogs

Dreams,
that move into
unfamiliar spaces,
steps with no stairs,
running on fresh
cement

Dreams,
speechless,
unspoken wishes,
lame excuses,
the unconscious
untamed

Dreams,
back to the wall,
head to the floor,
clawing up a slippery slope,
into a maze
without an exit sign

Dreams,
never seem to say
what they mean,
never finish
what they think, until
it’s too late,
the dreamer
wakes up

with a vague suspicion,
a piece of undigested
story,
a cryptic message,
a letter
with no return address.

©️mft