Aidan Naughton

Aidan Naughton Poems

The Best Poem Of Aidan Naughton

Camouflage And The First Step

Does the chameleon know that it is changing
when it begins to blend in with an environment?
Can it consciously choose to remain the familiar green
against the corrugated bark?
I want to remain the familiar green-
not of envy but of life, of hope, of spring.
I want you to see me, even against
the corrugated labyrinth of social interactions,
even if who i truly am is more obtrusive
than when i play the chameleon.

The chameleon can slide quietly
into the waters of conversation,
causing barely a ripple and adjusting its appearance
at the slightest sense of rejection from the madding crowd.

I think you prefer the chameleon, and, so,
sometimes, I am disgusted with you
for not realizing the facade, the camouflage.
But i have removed the tough skin
long enough for you to treasure the more beautiful-
and yes, more vulnerable - interior?
And as unfamiliar as i am with this next step,
I will ask for your help,
Because both of us need to learn to look
beyond the blending abilities of the chameleon
and love me for who i truly am.

- Sister Miriam

The First Step

A Chameleon slithers and slinks in and out of every situation.
It comes and goes just like the wind, and lasts just as long -
Sometimes long, with robust force toppling fences, people, and statues regardless.
Sometimes long, loud enough to silence every prayer.
Somtimes long, long enough for the chameleon to remember the Familiar Green.
Sometimes short, with enough force to brush away the dirt on their backs.
Sometimes short, quiet enough to listen when nobody else can hear.
Sometimes short, short enough to see the changes he is enduring.
So the chameleon faces a problem when he forgets what the Familiar Green is.

He can't remember what color he was when he was in the grass.
He's already strayed so far onto the asphalt
Where an endless sussession of cars come careening past
Threatening him with his life.
He treads a dangerous path towards the destination of which he is uncertain.

The others - the geckos, the iguanas, the snakes, the bugs, the rodents and even the birds -
They know what color their coat is, their feathers are, their skin is, their scales are.
The chameleon does not know, because come tomorrow his color will change.
His banner may reflect a nice green grass, or perhaps a serene sandy beach, or even the brown bark of a tall tree
Or maybe even the wrinkled wallpaper in his glass box.

See, the chameleon doesn't alwas know what he looks like -
But that's okay...
Because he has the others to remind him every now and then of what color he has been.

I do prefer the chameleon, because sometimes its easier to blend in
Than stick out as whatever color I find myself.
People dont want to know that your skin is changing color, they only ask how you're doing to hear you say, 'Fine.'
I learned I'm supposed to feel 'Fine.'
See, my colors aren't simple -
I wear a mood ring of skin around my body
That changes with every feeling I feel and every moment I experience.
But the inside is soft, fragile as fine china
Put on display behind velvet ropes and 'DO NOT TOUCH' signs,
But the stares alone are more than enough to break me,
So I hide... I hide behind my colorful paint and velvet ropes so maybe I won't break.
And it's no secret that his teacup has broken before,
Some talented people can see it if they look hard enough, despite the curator's best efforts of masking the cracks.
Some people dig deeper, some people demand more than, 'Fine.'
Some people save my life - they take the blade from my throat, the gun from my hands, the bottle from my mouth.
Some people are like you.

So I'll get a better mirror, I'll look a little harder, I'll stare a little longer,
Because somewhere inside is the color I truly am.
And I'll walk, I'll take this first step with you -
Even if it is a thousand miles long and filled with stares and snares.
Even if it's impossible, because impossible is what I'm good at.

Aidan Naughton Comments