Seeing Eye to Eye

Your lip curls in derision,

contempt for failings twists you.

Your eye gleams,

‘arc de triomphe’;

 your tongue trails

your rows of hapless prisoners,

an offering to ego’s altar.

Your gleam blinds you

to your own appetites,

 slaves with sweat glistening,

goose-stepping over cells

bound by shackles of steel.

Remove the plank,

and you can see to remove my speck.

Perhaps then,


we can see

eye to eye.

Some Would Say

Some would say your clothing’s odd, it clashes in its hue;

Others think your garments loud, and cringe at sight of you.

Others still go to great lengths to deny affinity there,

While those who know you least of all will often stop and stare.

But they don’t see, past ruffled cloth, the beauty of your heart,

Or notice with their blunted sense the qualities  apart

From which your worth is lost in sundry traits which can’t be seen,

But felt with soul and mind and gentle spirit in between.