Wednesday, July 13, 2011


It’s been several hours and …
No, not bald yet,
         No, Cancer sticks are not a part of this
Since I’ve last rest my eyes on you.

To tress, to shear, to clip, to frock, to slit, to trim, to mow, to snip, to erase a past I’ve attached to long. To wipe away the image so many pictures now fib to show

Smooth, like skin, yes, skin it is
In the mirror reflecting this time and space, Yet who stares back,
I can’t rememb…
         The eerie similarities, of cheekbones, eyes, ears, familiar yet alone, perhaps a lie to the pupil’s been played, perhaps a dream.
         Smooth, to touch, rough to sew, the picture of change’s touch
To move, slowly cross the screen
Changing grins upon imposters face
Lips pucker, purse
Brow rest and raise
Then words begin to come from this; perhaps I’ll eventually find a way
Yet he who stares back,
         I couldn’t begin to pret…
                  Sure a pinch might remind in me,
                           But it’s like the brain’s been transformed to a separate shell, 
         Of a stranger I now must get to know
The way Antigone lost her kinship
         I must pyre forward and grow to embrace the face replacing the face erased. 
Perhaps not as incendiary, but burn shall the effigy of memory

Bowing head, to extent I can,
         Not chin to chest
                  But dipped in anon,
Another place, to roam but once again
         Silence held
As the remnants lay
         In my arms
On my skin
         All about me now
Clean up
         Will infuse
Tear with hair
         Lots of memories to be cleared
Into a bag
         Out to the street
For some relic scow will come to claim
         The snap decision
                  The possession that encompassed
                           The only identifier of me.

Late last night
         I found myself
                  With scissors
                           Then with razorblade
                                    Lemon soap was all I had
                                             To build a lather
Just yesterday
         Hair fell, beneath shoulder
                  Long and proud
                           But after the facial change
                                    Where beard to neck, thick and alive
                                             Took 13 months to build
                                                      But only took 1 hour to destroy
         And so, the hair had to leave as well. 
                  Now blending is not something you say, I now look like everybody.  Perhaps this will make me more connected; perhaps it will make me more alike.  Maybe this will make assimilation cleaner, maybe it will open the channels, flood the ravines.  Or it might just close the port, make the sounds once heard, ambivalent yet deafening.


  1. Never was one for the whole beard, hairy face deal. Great job using it to set apart from the norm and love the use of assimilate. Also "ambivalent yet deafening" has a very real feel to it, really liked that line.

  2. "Changing grins upon imposters face" I was really taken with this line, whenever I'd made a change and look in the mirror this very much describes it. You know a beard really does have a heavy impact when my husband changes or shaves his I don't recognize him lol I prefer a bit of an unshaven look myself

  3. Pat, thanks, yeah I loved that beard, lol It's just so strange right now not having it, and the long hair, probably never do that again, took so long to get, but I liked the two together. But it's a lot cooler without all of that. Thanks for the feedback, as usual much appreciated:)

  4. Mindlovemisery, thanks for the visit, glad you liked this poem. see, you have a reference point here, that's great, so you know how it's really a stark difference from with or without beard. Well if you liked the unshaven look, you'd have loved what I was rocking, no kidding it was Brian Wilson thick, he's a MLB closer in case you didn't get the reference. Thanks again:)