Toulouse-Lautrec/ Yvette Guilbert
THIS WEEK, for Poetry Potluck #47, we have the topic..."HISTORY and STORIES"...
SINISTER
Straight down the middle
is the line on which my history
plays hop-scotch.
This side blurs,
that side seeps
into the witch's cave,
all stalactites, hooked.
Sinister me,
a muddle of dim light,
yin and yang
slept in my mother's womb.
I want to play in heavy metal,
to tip the notes so far
that only an exorcism
can extract me back
into my true blue identity.
All the mystics decree,
even God on the Mount,
and angels flag me
to walk into the good light.
Maybe the bad seeds of my nature
can be ground into a fine residue,
swept away like a holy mandala,
the dust and fog of my karma.
copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2011
