September 18th, 2015

Shaman - Horse

Poem - Box

A new online acquaintance asked if I could write a poem about tolerance. Their observation was “everyone seems to want everyone to fit in only one and only one box, without difference… One should not be gay or one should not be religious, if only all the world could accept the other one as he is, without judgment, without trying to modify his inner personality.” Good stuff! The resulting poem “Box” illustrates why people attempt to put others into only one box. The outward face of this seems to be about tolerance and understanding. Reality defies this, with the box being a very ugly solution to the messiness of diversity’s beauty.

Poem for Day 260 – 20150918

We’ll pick the biggest box,
the one that fits all of us.
We’ll meet the goal of tolerance
by blanching out diversity.
Don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t rock the boat.
Peace will be kept when differences
are buried where none can see
the breadth of who we’re meant to be.

Wear this mask to calm my nerves,
it is really better for the all of us.
You’ll thank me when you are the same,
saved from yourself when you are us.
Allow me to review where you must change,
to be as good as those in the box.
Allow me to confide the pains
I feel when you’re revealed.

The beliefs of my masters do call,
they allow me to tow the line.
We do exist in a state of FUD
in pursuit of most pure politics.
Opponents are inhuman beasts,
and I see you as not one of them,
so please speak not to our differences
or I’ll question what I’ve been told.

I keep my divinity at arm’s length,
or blind myself with roaring rage.
Your alternative path is unwelcomed
especially if it speaks to my heart.
The structure of my life is concrete,
foundation of who I believe I am.
To see God outside of these confines
would call me to the true design.

Your sexual identity is so confused,
speaking to the whispers in my head.
Check the locks on doors closed tight,
you’ll not break out the waking beast.
Begone bedroom provocateur,
I’ll not admit my desires are similar.
To echo the thoughts I do repress
is your greatest sin to this day.

You ask me why I’m open minded,
desiring cooperation of the masses.
This is for the good of all of us,
says the little voice in my heart.
That voice so full of fear and dread,
unable to accept those unlike mine.
Something must be done to set things right,
to whitewash the stains in my eyes.

You see that what I ask is best,
that you join in with the rest of us.
The box is large enough you’ll see
if you lose the untidy parts of yourself.
They’ll be no judgment of you friend
when your slate is wiped clean.
Take the mask and stand in line,
the box only consumes those of like kind.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.