Home

THIS MEDIATOR

by Glenn Currier

This poem is a compilation of others published separately (see numbered titles below) in installments in my library. The poem is an attempt to describe the reactions and sentiments of a party in a mediation. Mediation is an emerging profession in North America in which the mediator assists two or more persons with a dispute to communicate and to reach an understanding, agreement, or reconciliation.

1. The Leap

this mediator who
pops in to hear
the history of my pain
in a few minutes
or hours

presuming entitlement
to tinker with
my life
to throb
with my wound

using mind and reason
on the mindless
impulse and retort
on the snap
of fear and panic
on the thump
of hasty riposte

When I think about hurt
it seems like
mixing chartreuse and lime
or oil and water
or skating backwards
for the first time

audacious observer
sitting there
watching
as I undress my soul
asking me to do it
in the presence of
my enemy

here I am
about to leap
into these dark fathoms
not knowing
if I will swim
or hit bottom
or drown

2. What Passions Prowl?

this mediator
formed
by the conversations of

his comrades and enemies

his parents and peers

filled with the history of
his people and pastor
his lovers and teachers
his
wins and his losses
would his friends and kin

take the time
to notice me
take the risk
to be seen with me
spend a portion of
their wealth or
their care
their energy
on me

What passions prowl
what fondness
what fears
what sense
what meaning
what value

lurk behind

his calm demeanor

what men
what women
hide

or huddle

underneath his skin
and he says…
he’s neutral

gagging and choking
I pull from my gut
the long worm

of hurt and anger

putrid and
strangled

by the constrictions

of this battle
of her ego and mine

and this mediator
sits
Impassive
his calm
i
s it
serenity
or sham
is he as scared
of this conflict
as I

but still…

he listens
unperturbed by her protestations
unimpressed with the
fancy clothing
and dulcet sounds
of her argument

she’s kidnapped
my time

and here I am

paying her ransom
paying his fee

paying
my time
my pain

will he earn
and

will I pay
the coin
of my trust

3. Mustangs and Mules

he says
for now
my voice reigns
Mine the reins of my
mustangs and mules
badgers and Bengals
vipers and vultures
I measure
their
venom
and bite
my eyes rain
my drama
center stage

her smug smile
stings
like a hornet
unspoken disdain
spindly sarcasm
dig their dirge
their chasm
fetid claws
through
sediment
and seam
shredding and leaping
deeper
than I had feared

and as we
lance each other's
boils
this mediator
takes his
notes
notices
listens
listens
listens
his care
earns
the currency
of my trust

mustangs and mules

he says
for now
my voice reigns
Mine the reins of my
mustangs and mules
badgers and Bengals
vipers and vultures
I measure
their
venom
and bite
my eyes rain
my drama
center stage

her smug smile
stings
like a hornet
unspoken disdain
spindly sarcasm
dig their dirge
their chasm
fetid claws
through
sediment
and seam
shredding and leaping
deeper
than I had feared

and as we
lance each other's
boils
this mediator
takes his
notes
notices
listens
listens
listens
his care
earns
the currency
of my trust

4. High Hedges

our ferocity
all but spent
this mediator
softly invites
the unthinkable
meet her eyes
incredulous
staggered
I pause
and flush
this mediator
crazy
or courageous
gently bids
us converse

her sentences
and mine
clipped from
high hedges
planted in our
encircling bitterness
the taught skin
of face and knuckles
spawned by
convictions and sentences
decreed by our synapses

but still he stays

this mediator
being there
asking
affirming
resolute soldier
in our battle
firing
not a single shot
collaborating
with
no enemy
only
with
a faith
or hope
we can sense
living
inside
cracking
our crust's
hard guard
scratching
rust of rage
reviving
tarnished time

beyond ego's
battered barriers
gleam grains
of dignity
and
doubt
in our
tightly crafted yarns
in the
ferocious forts
protecting
positions

5. "Evening came and morning followed - the fifth day." [Genesis: 1:23]

this mediator
daring
summons us
from the seabed
of our cynicism
to storm our souls
to flee
evolution's crawl
to free
the creature
to unleash
our future

born from the depths
we float
we build a boat
we cast our net
we winnow
we harvest
we meet
we breathe

02/06/2002

Posted on 02/06/2002
Copyright © 2019 Glenn Currier

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/06/06 at 04:23 AM

Blessed are the peace makers.... This is a fantastic poem of the process of a mediator, and the feelings those in mediation must experience. Very intense - a roller coaster of emotions, and still a steady sense of place and hope of communication from this mediator. We should all have access to such a person.

Return to the Previous Page
 

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2019 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)