The Poem That Achieved Something

A poem from 1992

Before I went

to bed

last night

I

wrote

a poem,

expected it to be a whinge

    but

cutting it short

it achieved something

in a mystical way,

breaking through

a barrier.

I don’t expect this

poem

to achieve

a mystical thing

but

for your information

to give you a glimpse

deeper

into me.

In August or September

last year

we met

I,

in the depths of despair,

My rooms were swept

cleaned

dusted down

but not filled.

You knew

that I would fall in love with you

but somehow

you were driven on

to take a risk

high stakes

shades of make or

shades of break,

but I don’t hate you

for it.

Don’t absolve yourself

entirely of blame

for you knew

what has happened

might happen.

What you see as a crazy idea

I see as a variation

of the future,

which will never be

unless

a pure miracle occurs.

Why are my feelings a crazy idea?

Do you think

my intentions

are a short term goal?

Do you think

my affections

want to trail away?

Do you think

I would find it easy

spending my life with you

or any woman?

Does that mean

I have to back away

from the challenge?

You

you could not accept

"praise"

or

that someone appreciates

your beauty.

Is that still a problem?

Drip drip drip

Chinese water torture.

Could I get through to you?

Do you have ears to hear

that the way I feel

about you

is special

because I love you?

It’s true

you

are not the first

but

I wish

you were the last,

to make me feel like this.

I can say

out of sheer paranoia

it is not meant to be

this

special thing for you and me,

   but -

it is true to say -

I would say it

about every girl in the world,

because

no-one ever wanted me like that

(except a girl

before the change

of spiritual allegiance

and that wore off

so quickly)

and so I expect

no-one ever will.

That Red Knight chases me, too.

I am cornered

in a no-win situation.

If I stay silent,

I never gain you.

If I go on and on

like

a broken

r

e

c

o

r

d -

I may lose

even our pure friendship.

God forbid!

If I choose the status quo

and bring this thing to a joke...?

So I

unleashed my pen

for one final assault.

Now it is my turn

to take the risk.

Now it is I

who raises the stakes.

Now it is I

who takes on himself

the blame

if you seldom talk to me

again.

Please

see the foolishness of love

the fool that wants you

to be his

but has resigned himself

to your answer.

Do not resent me.

Do not be annoyed with me.

Please forgive me,

for disturbing you.