Jul 30, 2016
From thee And for thee I went and departed hence.
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From thee And for thee I went and departed hence.
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For memory of my strange attention And unwarranted affection Had sooner slipped your mind Than my face moved from your sight Unremarkable was I In so many ways Stacked on top of one another That, until I make my way And succeed in some unexpected Remarkable way, Your memory will hold only That girl at the end of our table And what’s-her-name.
I did turn away As to pray to unsee All the words I didn’t say And all the things I did -Those I regret believe you me. Now, to turn back, And remark upon your features As a painter rather than admirer Is far more my joy For loving the work Than trying to love you.
I imagine if you hummed
It would be the voice of the ocean,
A low rumble if I lay on your chest.
I imagine it would be a help in discretion
As you passed sweet words by my ear.
But you, as you are, would not say
A single word to me.
It would all be in the doe-look
Of your tired eyes
And the curl of your lip
As you try not to laugh.
In your foreign familiarity
You are singular,
Unmatched, unique.
Although I favour other sport,
There’s you and you’re so sure.
I forget the sound of your voice
And the weird curl of your hair,
But, upon seeing you, I wonder,
How could I ever forget?
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One Pair of Shoes
There have been too many reruns,
Too many of the same story,
Too many instances of the mind
Failing to keep the heart from going astray;
Even times when the mind chose
To run into the passionate embrace of idiocy.
But, for now, it isn’t standing on the rugby field
To be ignored,
Or waiting on slow messages
From some boy who’s gone abroad.
Now, there is only cold in the mind
And the memory.
My mind is filled with snow
And the question
“Does he really only have one pair of shoes?”
I shall remind you, Reader,
That this is not Romeo and Juliet,
Both in that I have no intention of dying
And that, when two young souls meet
And make eye contact across a crowded room,
It is inevitably awkward.
I know that you’ll say
“They were fated!”, “made for each other” –
Now, what soul wasn’t made for any other?
We could all fall as they do
If we lost all grasp on reason.
No, we have strayed too far…
In making such uncomfortable contact,
It is best assumed that it should be avoided,
And you should never be caught watching,
Gazing or daydreaming of again.
But when you twitch to hide
Your less-than-empirical observations,
It is only human to wonder
That, maybe, both are doing the same.
You may watch with conviction
The workings of a beautiful mind:
The silence and drawn brow
While the eyes flicker this way and that,
But never seeing.
You may see fruits
Of such a beautiful mind
And feel nothing but broken envy;
As you should when he twists
And plucks at the threads of history, just so.
An argument as flawless
As new-fallen Berlin snow.