Twenty twenty hindsight

9 01 2012

I stood in this shop twenty years ago
with a twenty in my pocket.
I asked a stubbled man to drill
a blood red heart into my arm.
He refused to mark a girl
on skin that would be visible.

How times change.

Now I stand in the same shop
with my invisible heart upon my sleeve.
I ask a stubbled boy for a
thin crust pizza
and pay him
with the twenty in my pocket.




3 responses

10 01 2012

I had a realization like that too… though mine was a tad longer…:
Mon Jan 9, 2012

An Odd Turn Around

During my teen angst years
I suppose I was someone or something
That one wanted to avoid contact with
Moody, broody, kvetching, retching
Very frightening looking into my eyes
Into the depths of my unsettled soul
Wanting to chew and spit all those wrongs
Mostly centered around my ego
So very much apart of the Me Generation

What is maturity – will I, have I achieved
Such a state, now that I’m the one ‘over the hill’?
Having lived through my own teenagers,
Making amends with at least most of the demons
That once held a tight constricting grasp
I thought my eyes might truly reflect
A gentle, kinder, more abiding and giving soul
Yet I wonder if I haven’t sparked fear into
Someone else who I thought shared a mutual respect

Do such predicaments fall naturally when an elder
Has a boss the age of their eldest child?
I had thought I resolved a conflict quite well
Non-accusatory, calmly, without tears or confrontation
And yet I feel like I am being avoided
Which I believe isn’t necessarily a bad thing –
But eventually our eyes will have to meet
I feel like saying; really I don’t bite
I just expect respect, and will be loyal if let to


10 01 2012

I love the circularity in ‘Twenty’. A touching small stone.

10 01 2012

Thanks Helen, I appreciate you stopping by.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: