The Rich Vegetarian

An Examined Life

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Category: Poetry (page 1 of 7)

Amme, Why?

The world is always asking me to change.

It knows more than I do; it’s been here a lot longer than I have.

It begins innocuously enough, talk less. Oh, why? You know you have to give others a chance to speak too.

When you know what they are saying is, we JUST DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOU ANY MORE.

But you shut up nicely because you don’t want to shut anyone else down.

And then it moves to, don’t talk all that much, not with him or him or him or them. Oh, why? He’ll think you like him. But I do! Ohh, you do? Well, you have to be safe. Don’t let him get close. Ahh, therein lies the problem… I already did!

And so it goes on, talk less. Go out more. Hang out more. Don’t let them get a wrong impression. Don’t give anyone a chance to talk… and so on.

Amme, I am so tired and spent, playing these games and jumping through hoops.

Amme, you never instructed me much as a kid, and now the world is hellbent on giving me instruction… or giving me hell for not playing along.

Amme, why does it feel like I was born free and happy, only to act smart and play dumb? Why is there a seemingly mysterious world of interaction and power play, and how do I learn the tricks?

Amme, is there a world for someone like me?

A Poem for S

She came with a little cash, a stomach full of dreams,
Leaving behind a family that cared little, or perhaps not at all.
And she came hungry and fearful, or really fearless,
Went from a city to another, naive and hopeful,
Free from fear or hate.

And then I think, dearest,
If there is a God I can see and touch and feel,
It is your innocence.

And I think about you
wondering if you are happy, and if I may share some love, some good fortune,

It’s yours — today, tomorrow, forever.