Noises off

He was paralysed for much of his life
Trapped by indecision, he searched for the chimera
Of stability, of security.
He did not commit many crimes
But sometimes, after work,
His hand became covered with poetry.

All that he expected was undone:
His marriages crumbled
His family dispersed
All the expected epics and rhapsodies of his life:
Gone. Cancelled.

In his childhood, he had expected to be a bear
Who played castanets in a circus,
As men jump through rings of fire.
This expectation became a torture device
That shredded his fingers so he could not write

About the lives of migratory birds,
Nor produce maps that showed the routes taken
By these map-less mini-dinosaurs
Birds who possess no return address. 

 

Now we suffer the spread of contagion.
Now, we suffocate
With congestion
The contagion of people -
Kill off all the other animals -
Animals with soft eyes -
Living in the little wildness remaining,
Separated somewhat from the detritus of Homo Sapiens:
The killer species.

 

 

 

◄ An August midnight

April morning ►

Comments

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John Marks

Thu 13th Aug 2020 10:16

Thank you Tom.

What would the world be, once bereft 
Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left, 
O let them be left, wildness and wet; 
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.

Gerard Manley Hopkins,

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Tom

Wed 12th Aug 2020 17:26

I like the way this zooms out; a man, nature, mankind... the apocalypse. And "His hand became covered with poetry" is a such a great line. Loved it.

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John Marks

Tue 11th Aug 2020 22:47

Thank you Shifa and Paul. My poems are not very popular but I don't mind. They'll be around long after I've departed this mortal coil. This poem must have made an impression to persuade you to explete Shifa! Often,I prefer the company of dogs to that of humans (present company and few dozen others excepted).

Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in.

Mark Twain

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Shifa Maqba

Tue 11th Aug 2020 11:35

"Separated somewhat from the detritus of Homo Sapiens:
The killer species"... what a killer line! A killer poem in fact.
Bloody brilliant!

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Paul Sayer

Mon 10th Aug 2020 22:01

I almost forgot about your words...

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Paul Sayer

Mon 10th Aug 2020 22:01

Hardly a head was turned

I was spellbound

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