She never said
an unkind word
to anyone.

My clever head
finds that a little weird
and maybe
not much fun.

Though, really,
on the other hand,
it lights a sector
of my mind,
blazes novel trails ahead,
where can flow
brand-new thoughts unheard,
that nudge me toward
a clumsy sort
of emulation,

I think it’s fit
to think of it–
that ne’er to have
and unkind word
emitted from your lips
is not necessarily
to be devoid
of any thought or wish
to summarily dismiss
some Mister, Ms. or Miss. . .

But, while that’s true,
into the mode of
actually voicing it
you need not actually stoop
or fall–

especially not
when it rises
from some part of you
quite small–
that cacophony
of frozen fears and wants,
and their
self-protective, inner chatter,

so petty, it comes up again,
though deep down
in your truest self
there is no remaining hint
of bubbling,
simmering anger.

It is one thing
just to think
an unkind thing,
but it mostly
may be better
to let it roll
softly on by
like gentle river water. . .

For it keeps you much
more stuck
than it does another

and even if you
come up short,
when you just decide
it’s not the thing you want to do,
of others to speak ill,

you may find
that, of love and life,
you are more apt
to get your fill,
and feel deep down
more warm,

if you
turn an eye near blind
to that little thing
that feels not right,

and instead,
open up
your bigger sight
to find
another human
face and heart. . .

And then, bring out
your rusty smile,
and reach out
with ­­­your arm.

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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