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Mojo

by Chris Sorrenti


there are days when I am at odds with the world
people annoy me
for simply sharing the same planet
shaking my head at all the imperfection
sometimes wishing I was the only one left alive

most frightening the days
when judging by the look on others’ faces
they feel the same way
tension so thick there’s no dissipating it
by waving your arms in the air

how despite those closest to me
being friendly and kind
I eventually find something wrong with them
a personality trait or physical feature
bad habits...idiosyncrasies
but above all else
especially mine

the sound of my own voice
though others tell me they like it
the red spot on the bridge of this nose
that will never go away
despite friends saying they hadn’t noticed

even my poetry at times is too much to bear
who the hell do I think I am?
writing some of the things I do
living for the next word high
to chase away this dogged insecurity
for all too short a period of time

on other days however
the world is a very different place
in contrast to the tension
that plagued only hours before
there’s mojo in the air
leaving me in love with everyone
everything
and how this whole crazy world
just keeps on going

the personality traits…physical features
bad habits and idiosyncrasies
including mine
evaporated into the matrix
and though soon again it will rain
all around I see perfection in the imperfection
poetry that must be written down

is it Friday yet?

© 2005

320 hits as of November 2019

05/24/2017

Posted on 05/24/2017
Copyright © 2019 Chris Sorrenti

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