Chess and Fencing

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Like chess and fencing we socially dance,

and when our eyes meet,

my honesty turns yours away

 

You have built your little tyranny

on a toothpick structure of little tyrannies

interlaced with the fat bole of blackened, rotting, misguided malignancy

hundreds of years in the making

 

You help to pass laws unconsented

to steal another set of choices

further branding me as cattle,

too stupid to choose for myself

 

Your back, right pocket knows what’s best for me

 

Yet I’ll not wear the spots nor fill my udder,

fat with televised milk for you to draw mute industry from

 

No, I must parry continuously

as you test constantly

my ability to twist and weave.

You seek many painted hearts on my uniform

where your epee of code and assumption can sink its point

 

You train me in the art of precariously positioning

my expression of consciousness

I must word well my expressions for you will use them,

twist them, horribly misconstrue them.

 

You bastardize my intention

and professionally call me knave and nigger

 

Your tongue is an accepted, yet self-appointed brand

as you claim me as of your herd

to protect me from my ignorance about life’s spinnings

which I understand far beyond your years.

I could tell you about atoms and Eve.

 

Your ministry and ministrations stand only

on the complacency of the masses.

Not on Truth or Love, nor even common sense.

 

Your vested interest in inefficiency kills us both.

Your plan based on planned obsolescence is,

by it’s nature, already obsolete.

 

When you smirk as your accusations sink into empty nodding heads

and I look at you,

through you,

amidst the sound of jingling coins being etched

in electronic code on plastic, and in flesh,

I see the little boy that you are,

whose First Cause was to help make things more fair.

 

Yet life’s unfairness jaded your distance of vision

and you see now only your pockets and penis.

 

My honesty reminds you of that

and I see that nanosecond’s flicker of fear in your eyes,

and fearing that I have seen it

you fly into quickly checked,

but no less thoroughly punishing anger;

and you fail to realize that it was I who beckoned that flicker.

 

I coaxed that memory,

and we must wonder who is fucking with who.

Another dance?

My face stings with your glove.

 

And even after endless duels

I can still look on your human face

and mentally reconstruct how it must have looked

when you were a child.

 

I see no smile to compare,

I can only see how you glowered with misunderstanding and resentment

at another scolding and punishment

as you walked down the hall to your room,

full of the misunderstanding of being disciplined

and held responsible for the knowledge you did not until now possess

about breaking yet another rule which you never knew existed

 

And today your obedience to hypocrisy unfolds

as you tell me that ignorance of the law is no excuse

 

Your hurt is so hidden, yet obvious

and your purpose is so forgotten that you would sacrifice all:

Earth, air, truth, life,

the birthright of selfhood

and freedom for all, including yourself

for some dollar,

or sexual conquest,

or libidinous notice,

to, for just another moment,

buffer your attention from your fear

and the nakedness of your disease.

 

Is the next moment’s discomfort within illusory comfort

worth destroying the healing I could bring?

 

You misread worth and sustainment,

for if money grew on trees,

you would make an excellent environmentalist.

© 2015 William Suphan

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