November 1, 2014 § 3 Comments

Like clattering little children,

Seeking my attention.


Picking pockets,

Grab and take.


My so-called enemies.


Whining hovering bugs,

Endlessly tagging along.


Remember- don’t care what they think,

Else they’ll have you by the balls.


Handy mantra, don’t you think?


Like the elephant swatting away the fly.

Who’s the big shot in that parable?




Then I see Him.

Striding through.

Scattering the noisy ones.


They carry torches and pitchforks,

He’s got the blade.

Edged beyond sharp.


Not coming to seize what’s mine.

Or to heap me over with foul insult.

He’ll leave that to the suckerfish.


Slick words fall away.

Resolve all shadow and mist.


Cutting me just enough for the others to feed.

Taking his host just to the edge, never quite over.

Isn’t that the way?


My well spent youth in front of that magic box.

Hour upon hour of shuffling mummies, modeling my way.

So demons never show themselves in the mirror, I know.


But why is He there?





The virus beyond the scientist’s ken,

The monster always under the bed,

The beast that will stop swimming only at time’s end.


The enemy I could not hold any closer.

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§ 3 Responses to Enemies

  • Great to read something from you again, it’s been a while. Great piece!

  • Thomas Ross says:


    Thanks again for taking the time to read the work.

    For me, this was about the simple idea that only when I lose my sense of self, when I allow doubt and fear in, only then will the external “enemies” have the power to hurt me, a power I grant to them.

    And so the real “enemy” is the one I couldn’t hold any closer, the one who is always in the mirror. He’s the one I have to watch for.

    But that’s just what I was feeling as I wrote and reread it. You may have drawn something else from the work, which of course is all good and right.


  • Hariod Brawn says:

    Are you writing about thought and the imagined self may I ask Tom? If so, then yes indeed it is a useful mantra!

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