Bipolar Living
I am of the tribe of the innocent, so how to be worldly?
From where, what, and when must I begin?
Will that be self-afflicted or afflicted onto others?
Politicians keep telling us we have a binary choice.
The primal "genetics/environment" dilemma of life.
Why can't we have it both ways? Naiveté notwithstanding,
is there a range for innocence in a binary world?
Is binary the first step outward into an expanding universe?
Will we ever be able to restore the ruins we leave behind?
Or is it the last step inward into a collapsing universe?
Oh how I do despise this bipolar life.
Do "0s" and "1s" fit neatly on the head of a pin?
Does "1" stand for Democrat and "0" stand for a Republican?
If so, is it time to find a pin with a larger head?
I wonder, therefore I've won.
Dialogue with friends
So, my friends, this isn't really a question
nor an answer, nor an explanation to comfort
our children. But do we not teach them
that our time here is but an interlude?
This interlude is danced by deer and kangaroo?
And sung by frogs and doves? By those of us
who have lilt and those who don't. Splash
in ponds and shout life until it echoes.
And how about definition? A what? A why?
Why not define armament as an arm-a-minute
wrapped around someone's shoulders.
How long and how much and where and when
have no answers--just impressions and words,
and touches. Questions are hypotheticals.
Rape Semantics
Do I "regret" drinking too much, for swearing
too loud, for mooning your friends, for having
my way with you when you passed out? Oh
but the fog of booze and youth and music.…
I do "regret" it. But am I "sorry" for what comes
natural to "red, white, and blue" guys? I "regret"
having no self-discipline but guys will be …
I "regret" getting myself into trouble.
But "sorry"? Doesn't that mean I have to
break into your mind, feel your pain?
To see me with your eyes, be in your skin?
To "regret" is self-centered but to say….
I'm "sorry." "Sorry" implies that I was wrong,
that I violated your humanity. I'm "Sorry"
shifts me out of my skin. "Sorry" dismantles
my ego and begs forgiveness in your world.
Eventide
You suggest a reunion, at Palma De Mallorca,
and conjure up "The woman in the hotel pool"
who actually told us to "f--- off" or "shove it."
She must have been a tourist. The natives loved us.
For dozens of years my REM sleep has returned to
the sandy beaches and azure sea, and I visit nightly
the doll in a pale cream bikini, bobbing in the whitecaps.
Her bleached blond hair flinging side by side.
And after a prescribed number of gin tonics through a tube
I dive like Tarzan to save this slight body, tan limbs,
this doll being tossed around by willy nilly currents.
My old friends you've tapped the sunset of my mind, long stilled.
May your dreams be sweet tonight.
Tony Zurlo is a poet, fiction writer, and retired professor living in Arlington, Texas (USA). He has taught in both Nigeria and China, as well as several colleges in the U.S. His poetry, fiction, and essays have appeared in more than one hundred and twenty print and online journals. He has published ten books on African and Asian nations, and three books of poetry. Tony's book The Mind Dancing, a collection of his poems related to his experiences in China, won the 2010 Award for the Outstanding Poetry Book published by a Peace Corps writer during 2009.