Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Poem : Foul Hooked

Sometimes in life

We can become

Foul hooked

On the line

So they say

When you’re fishing

And realize the barb

Has disappeared

Deep into your flesh

You don’t want to believe

What your eyes are seeing


You feel it!

What’s left of the rancid bait

That once coated the hook’s exterior

Is now

Starting to slough off into your bloodstream

Like a poison dart

Like venom

From a pit viper’s hollow fangs 

At this point

The only thing to do

Is to push it through the other side

It’s more painful to pull back


All instincts say to do this very thing

So you push as sweat gathers

In little beads on your forehead

Your fingers

Turn white gripping the hook

As you watch your skin rise like a tent

Pushing upwards until the point pops out

Followed by a slow trickle of blood   

The same methods can be used

When you’re foul hooked by life



You first think

How can I push deeper into the problem?

You want to go back

But you know

You have to push through

Whatever has hooked you

The bottle

The bills

The liars

The needle

The saints selling salvation

For their own mansion in the sky

Like Odysseus

You have to keep moving forward

Push through the flesh of the problem

Poke these points of pain to the surface

Until you’re no longer foul hooked 

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