An abstraction of the perfect texture
Glistening foreheads and
the stench of dead youth.
Eyes that have seen far too much fire
and called hopelessly into
the abyss between here and happiness
too many times.
A shaplessness encased in exposed flesh,
humiliation written in the brow
the tension of cruel masculinity
flexing in clenched jaws.
Arms thrust forward, fists held to
the forehead as if proximity to the mind
could break invisible shackles.
The face betrays the sexuality of containment
the hunger for release from
captivity of the body.
The cameras will eventually dim
and the release will keep its appointment
but eternity will claim that humiliation
and etch it into the minds of the willing.

12/03/2006

Author's Note: I've been having increasing difficulty putting anything to poetry at all lately, so this is a very ROUGH first draft here for tips, insight, feedback of any kind, and soon to be edited.

Posted on 12/03/2006
Copyright © 2024 Kenneth Lau