Friday, May 17, 2024

Poetry Journal Oct. 17, 2013

 


Golem

 

Oct. 17, 2013

 

 I no longer see her in my head

when I close my eyes

 the way I did back then

when here face was everywhere,

an unavoidable catastrophe

I could not escape,

me, not her,

we all making her

 into something we wish

 rather than what she is,

 and then,

 she strives to live up to it,

 when nobody can,

 when we looked passed her

 as something other,

someone else,

a figment of imagination

 we have shaped her into,

 a golem who haunts us,

disappoints us,

and turns us into something hostile

 we never intended to be,

 we, part of a parade of people

who march through her life,

carrying our expectations on ourselves,

which mount on her back,

 a burden so heavy

no mortal can beat,

and in the end,

 she can’t live up to

 what we want

and we become

the stuff of nightmares

 that wake her

and shake her

and make ourselves

someone from whom

she must ultimately escape.

 

email to Al Sullivan

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