The Body Billboard

You have an aura about you; it's something we can all see except for you.  Your words can tell me a lot, but your body teaches me something different.  You can tell me you are happy, but you wear a frown.  You can tell me you are in love, but you look down every time you say so.  You can tell me you love your job, yet you are out of sick days and vacation days. You can tell me you are fine, yet I see you look at your scars and bruises.  You can tell me you have confidence, but not with that tear in your eye.  Regardless of what you verbalize, your body tells your story.  It starts with believing, not articulating.

Disguised Beauty

I am strange,

Yet, intelligent

I am eccentric,

And, unique

I am unconventional,

But, I am beautiful

I am societies unknown.

My wings are hidden,

and glowing hue dimmed,

My ashen skin darkened,

I wear a disguise

I have been sent from the unknown,

I have a message:

Love me

Esconder

It is beautiful.

It is strong like a diamond,

and fierce like a lion.

Its shell smooth like granite,

with a beautiful golden hue.

It has a casing

that encompasses a mind

of endless power.

Its oculus as deep

as the Mariana Trench,

with a necromatic ecstasy.

Its aura is like that of an opiate

with the power to enslave.

If only the mask were permanent.

Life Lesson #2

Everyone experiences the feeling of inadequacy.  One of my all-time favorite poems capture that feeling in the utmost stupefying way. I want to share it with you.  The author which is Edwin Arlington Robinson lived from 1869-1935; which fascinates me even more.  The feeling of inadequacy is obviously human-nature, and simply inevitable.  This poem is set in a fictional New England village, and recounts a tragic event.  The book in which I was able to locate the poem explains it as an, "ironic and inexplicable tragedy".  I will have to disagree.

Richard Cory
By: Edwin Arlington Robinson

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him;
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good morning," and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich- yes, richer than a king-
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.