Friday, April 6, 2012

An Enforcer ( The Affectionate Ends of Sullied Cloth)

His children,
pronouncedly exploding
amidst a carnival
of joviality—
         He spars—daily—
In the pugilistic
of ends-meet grind

At a time much past the dinner hour
he waits, for moments—assembling
what cheer’s left standing
outside his front-door—
                                             from corruption,
                                    and it’s bare-knuckled ends
but bruises alone—
         could not damper
         the atmosphere
And to his howling innocents,
         he needn’t pretend—
grinning, as pride returned—

and with each an arm to clasp quite close
         remember, he did,
the many reasons why
                           so hard he tried


  1. I can see this so clearly. Superb writing, Fred.

  2. And for some it can grow darker still for right and wrong is surely different for all. With the whole might makes right to the live and let live, many interpretations so many give. Creating a rift in what ones sees and making them no better than fleas on knees...hahaha...yeah it is hard to tell if one is doing the right thing sometimes, then it isn't usually hard to tell if one is doing the wrong things, as you just know but that doesn't stop many.

  3. i feel for him because sometimes we can try so hard yet it ends up so different than we thought it would...right may not always be right for all...