O - &;#65279;The Recognition Seeker

&;#65279;The words that flow
demand to be read aloud
they are but the reaction
to all the unsaid.
We are not, no less nor
no more than all,
sheltering in our embitter score.
Come to me with dreams but
leave in nightmares,
the recognition seekers
finding in the wake
the excrement of their hate
bleeding from every pore.

All they know is to disdain,
calling names to those who listen,
their relevance lost to reason,
as the current creates their treason.
As poetry lies in its grave
no more read but by the slave
to all interpretation.

Sadness in me is installed
to know that such despondency
could beget such hate.
The words I ply upon the page
stand for me in my time.
No haste have I
but the recognition seeker
finds me ill begot, as in their eyes
so they weave their disease
and sicken mind.

To draw upon the blood of
creativity and waste their time
in duplicity. No flame on the candle,
no wicker in the wax,
the heart of stone
bleeds its hatred
from the frustration
of the recognition seekers mind.

? Lesley Roberts 17 May 2002 (1:45PM)