D. B. DEVILLIERS

Poetry

Tag: maturity

I Do Wish

I wish I had held myself together.
I wish I’d done better,
done more, been better.
Wished I could try,
now wishing I had.
Sure wish I’d spent less time
trying to wish away the bad.
I might’ve been something
had I been anything
to begin with,
but if there’s a God
his concerns are more
important
than I am.
He didn’t stack chips
upon any
of my plans
and I don’t blame him—
he’d have lost them.
I wouldn’t have placed
that bet
either.
God doesn’t, can’t help those
who help themselves
to repeated glasses of
bourbon and gin
and out from open windows, shout
slurred shouts, swearing skyward, said

“Well, goddamn! I never once wished for this!”

Of Shadows and Trees

Sometimes I think back
to when I was a kid
and I firmly believed
evil hid between the trees
and behind every shadow
waiting to drag me screaming
to wherever evil lived.
 
But way back then
evil was pretty rare
and good appeared to be
nearly everywhere
so I took comfort in that
and I solemnly chose
to avoid the shadows and the trees
in favor of company and light.
 
But when I grew older
I ventured out between the trees
and I found no evil there
just branches and leaves.
I lit up the shadows
as I became bolder
but there was no evil there
either.
 
It turns out that evil
makes no effort
to hide from me
at all.
 
It smiles at me
and laughs with me
and I call it my friend.
It lives like I do
and looks like I do
and speaks like I do
too.
 
The monsters were never monsters
they were human beings.
They never lived in the shadows
or the trees.
The monsters all along
were plain to see.
 
I often find myself
among the shadows
and between the trees
hiding from the evil
that lives
in light
and company.