Hopefully the Interlude

Our paths had crossed and passed each other
But they had not be-come confused
They were paths leading to some home
They had places to go, they knew where

The starlings migrated as the geese
But one didn’t nest with the other
The caves, though close, had separate water streams
And evolution didn’t share its differences

While the stream chattered
And while the rocks were massaged gently by its progress
While the shared toil was enriching
The stream did not fizz

And yet those flying herbs and spices brought down the mask of ignorance
With stretched wings the paths merged temporarily
For a while, Harris’ Lament was forgot and
Lovers were made of this goose and starling

It’s not true that emotions can be kept separate
As the caves merged at the surface, they merged beneath
Ovums in the nest were large and small
“If only” he said

As I sit, pondering the Lament and the Pilgrim
As I burn as though I’ve boiling water in my heart
And as I ache and weep and cry
I hope the tale’s ending is yet to come

Self-aware

For the tunnel dwellers, the outside world isn’t a mystery: they don’t know it exists
They don’t look in mental mirrors and they don’t meditate upon themselves
Perhaps they are less vain, or really do not care
But they are liberated by their narrow field of view

For those of us on the open plain, there are predators everywhere
The choice of fur is telling and the lion’s opinion matters
When in a herd we are cautious and fertive even as we’re confident
And when alone, standing proud and sure, there’s still that we are watched

Some people wander through life unaware that they are annoying,
Unaware that they are crass, repetitive or foolish, some people don’t know how others see them,
Are not told by friends, their beat is out of sync; but they are the lucky ones,
For they are not burdened by this awareness, they are not weighed down by its millstone weight

Job interviews, first dates, plays, musicals and operas
The victim in these scenarios are the self-aware
And the failures are often not
Thick skinned you say? It’s a better defence against that lion than you could know.

Unlikely love (part 1)

Sources of inspiration are all around us
But none inspire prose like love

You meet someone, see them everyday
You know them, like them, enjoy their company
Then in a flash, “like” becomes insufficient
The word becomes as coal is to diamond

It’s not love, you tell yourself
If it were love, it would feel more than this
And yet, you lay at home, sick
Lacking energy, feeling lethargy

The prospect of the next day is exciting
You can’t sleep, like Christmas
Every detail is analysed by the heart
Was that a flirt? Did her eyes linger?

And then you’re apart again
Time slows until next you’ll meet
The analysis of the day is repeated
And earlier meetings too

Note from the author: I have written more of this poem, but I don't feel comfortable sharing it here. Perhaps another time.

Secret salves

You have a tale to tell
But you keep it to yourself
The secret burns like hell
But you keep it to yourself

If you could share this tale
If you could set it free
Would the burden pale?
You keep it to yourself

And then you tell a confidant
Someone who doesn’t know her
And you’re reassured, confident
That this will free your heart

And yet, the urge to share remains
Your head hurts as if caused by it
And your effort drains
But you keep it to yourself

But you are treating the wrong ailment
Sharing’s not going to make you better
You know that evening meant,
Much more than you had known

Sharing a secret does not relieve
It only represents danger
For discovery would not cleave
A better sanctuary

Lament the lost love

I was born in 2010, but I’m not so young
I am just now feeling for the first time
Before I experienced life and was happy
But now I look up and an imaginary cord
Drags, drags, drags on my head

And as I force my way against it
And as I try to gain control, and return
Instead my heart shrinks to a small, cold stone
And my ribs compress and squeeze
I look out upon the world, suddenly alive

This new life, this new feeling of pain
I know my body in ways I had not before
My heart had beat steadily every day
But now I wish I could take it out and stop its
Pound, pound, pound in my chest

I look up at the plane-less sky in wonder
And dream I am floating away into the unbroken blue
The cold that envelops me up there
Invigorates my soul and distracts my mind
My mind, though distracted, remains on her

She haunts me wonderfully
I close my eyes and she is there
I make a cup of tea and a fond memory invades
And every event, throughout every day
Reminds, reminds, but I am alive

A Hopeless Life

The heavy sky, burdened by the weight of piled clouds
Loomed and threatened the labourers toiling on the exposed hillside
A shaft of hope sprung forth and as suddenly was devoured
Ominously, the supernatural preoccupied the hopeless souls
Until from their earthly presence they were released

Wonder

The wonder of all things is that they exist at all
That I can see at all surprises me
For the space between atoms is so vast and
Water cannot be seen except by dint of its effects

Place some water in a container that is white
And cup your hands around your eyes
You won’t see the water’s surface
Any more than you will see between the molecules

Our eyes are tuned to the force fields of matter
Our existence lends much to what we need
Yet the pain of living is one of its wonders
And a life is better for having been suffered

Who amongst the thralls would die
Having never felt heartbreak?
Heartbreak is a fundamental factor of life
Heartbreak is a something to cherish while it lasts

The provider of this pain is not evil, nor is the recipient a victim
But the burning hatred that eats your heart
And feeds the butterflies in your gut
Has nowhere to aim, thank God, but in

Water’s ripples are not seen directly
You see only reflections disturbed
And the life we live inside our minds
Is disturbed like so many molecules’ heat.