Category Archives: poem poetry identity humanity

HITHER

HITHER

I wandered through poetry
thought I knew
this place
well

looking for wisdom
looking for humanity

my outlook by
no means negative
      though by no means
expecting
wonders
        miracles, transformation,
soul-shaping
life-
defining metaphors
and sadly I must add
conceding
   no possible hope
for love

which is exactly where I found you
    chatting to my Muse
(why is
   Muse never lover?)

man
     most well-measured
not a syllable out if place
but your
voice
      your voice

I do not hear
       perhaps it is just too
comfort-zone, risk
averse

   agrophobic
when it comes to

to the beyond, the boundless,
our freedom
           in a nutshell

shattering it to smithereens
with the force of
poetic pressure

and perhaps
     the poet too

perhaps
we should stay contained
work like
jewellers do
in miniature

for this is a dangerous age
bad time
      for words

and I, for my sins and
pretensions of
truly sinning

have wandered so far
of course, too
far away            thus
with
    grace

let me leave
             you here

for who
would now come hither?

HEIRLOOM

HEIRLOOM

there will come a time
when you step
out of your front door

only to
find

the clock in the house
old family clock,
heirloom
    that both of them
for all their
differences obvious
and concealed, real
and imagined
     will both swear and
schedule their lives by

only
   to find

heirloom, heirdoom,
        doomloom

time inside and outside
could not
        be more relative

and there it is
         out of nowhere
a growing pains singulaity
                          suddenly
extreme gravity
cosmic, yes, but
              when you speak
them in the boat
whirling around the vortes
just
   outside
  the event horizon

you will learn the apt term,
which may, in this case,
well be
psychosexual

and there they are dictating,
prescribing
       these great theraputic
gentlemen

who never in the world did
you expect
to see
    in real life

persuading you, pleading with
you
    imploring you

to find your negation of
this house of fiction, parental
palace
    of delusion

and until such time
        use the back door to
leave

quietly
     and at peace