Showing posts with label hurt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hurt. Show all posts

Friday, 19 October 2018

Unloving Crimes

A poem from 1986

dashed my head against a rock
and boredom flew out through the crack
in the skull
take away my personality
and you are left with nothing
throw me into the sea
and see what I care
if I fear tomorrow
then what can I do today
to make any sense of these tortured thoughts
kiss my mind
and you may find that evil spirits will fly
into the hell that they deserve
where will you go
if I throw you away
why do I care about your destiny
do I care or am I an unloving crime
dressed in human skin
stupid people being insensitive to me
me, to you
you, to me
in this deep façade which I call economy
and lust. Selfishness
is making me violent
try not to tip the balance
or you will regret the confusion that follows me
into the second hollow sound of raining in my heart
dash me to pieces please
maybe then you will be happy

Friday, 31 March 2017

April Fool - ha ha!

A poem from 1991
I have to admit that I was wrong
- somewhere along the line
I miscalculated
I never expected to gain you
- so I could never lose you
and I figured
that I had nothing
to lose if I said, “I love you”.
But I was wrong.
I lost hope
I lost myself
I fell away into the deep divide
between life and death.
I have no tangible hope
no way forward
except to live each dreary day
in the wish that God
will one day change things

I was wrong
- I didn’t expect “yes”
- I didn’t expect “no”
to be so devastating.
I was waiting for it with a knot in my stomach.
It came
it greeted me
it hit me
it threw me
pushed me away
out of the game
out of my religion
out of my reading
out of my talking
out of my rational thinking
out of my mind.

I was wrong
- I underestimated the power of rejection
- I underestimated the power of not being loved
and of not
having the chance to love.
The power of denial
can be evil in this art
it can destroy you
grind you into uncountable pieces
change your countenance
your words
- then you see her face
and she can’t look you in the eyes
and there’s nothing to talk about
for there’s no point in making things worse
- and you see her face
- and you wish she’d change her mind
- and you see her face
- and you see she’s not making fun of you
- and you see her face
- and you see she’s hurting, too
- and you see her face
- and you can’t live without her
you can’t live with her
- and you see her face
- and you don’t want to hurt her
you really want to kiss her
but you’ve no hope
no chance
you’re lost
I’m lost.

I wish I could say
“I don’t care”
but that were untrue
I would deceive myself
the truth is not in me
it remains outside
in the cold, night air
wanting desperately to come inside
vying for position
(against the armies of Satan
against damned misfortune)
seeking me as it’s home
- but I can’t fight
- and I saw her face
- and I lost myself
- and I saw her face
- and I broke down inside
- and I saw her face
- and my words had to force themselves
through my throat
- and I saw her face
- and I was sad
- and I saw my face
- and I wasn’t surprised
at her response
- and I saw my behaviour
hers too
and I knew she couldn’t cope
- she played safe when she had the chance
but I am dangerous
I am detached
a body walking without a future wife planned
she didn’t want me
and now here I am
- devastated
and drowning.
I was wrong.

This happens each day
to countless millions
but that is no comfort to a dying fool
who disobeyed his master
his king
and who gives serious thought
to further ways of disobedience
who sees her face
and doesn’t know whether to rejoice
or be sad
to go quiet
or be loud to get her attention.
The fool said, “there is no hope”
even though the source of all hope
is in him
the source of joy in all abundance
the river of life, of everlasting peace which no longer seems to flow.
How many friendships must be lost
until true contentment raises it’s head?
How many times must a man laugh
before he offends his God
like a hypocrite
who’s too messed up to care
to share
with those who might be able to help?
Who cares?
Doesn’t time heal?
Don’t scars disappear?
Don’t cuckoos fly backwards in the summer?
Let me wait
give me time
to see
if times brings the answer.