Poems of a Young Man: “The Attack of the Self-Serving Cycle” (© KPKeelan)


No wonder I’ve kept
the tender me
under lock and key
encased like unstable dynamite.
Seems every time I
take it out
and dust it off
some wonderful lady
seizes it
and squeezes it
and flings it away.
I feel today
the loneliness of guard and sentry
longing to free the other
and escape
back to the sanctuary of prison
where the scars scab over and recede.
Ideas are obliterated.
I am spiritual ecstasy
and emotional ruin in the same moment.
Why must I surrender
again and again
only to get pain
and painful lessons
in return?

Where is that keyhole
that unlocks ME?

Where is the key?

(no date)


About KPKeelan

Fool, Philosopher, Lover & Dreamer, Benign TROUBLEMAKER, King and Jester of KPKworld, an online portal to visual and linguistic mystery, befuddlement and delight.
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