Lie to Me

Lie to Me

When the halyard raps the empty staff

and the hurricane screams its rage,

and the water-mountains heave and crash

in their spume-flecked valleys chained,

and I look upon this wild expanse

shouting fury for my pleas,

and ask in dread “Do we stand a chance?”

Please, oh please take pity ….

…. lie to me.

 

When darkness infiltrates my being,

seeps silent through my bones,

and I recognize there can be no fleeing

though sorrow yet atones;

if I show some irritation,

if your smallest acts intrigue

to fan the flames of my isolation,

I beg you, with all my heart ….

…. lie to me.

 

Should I cry out loud in dream-racked sleep

in the blind of a winter night,

shouting: “What could possibly have made me weep”?

- let me be, my regrets to fight;

or I'll slip on the coward's mask of fear

like the head of a tailor's dummy,

and tend my garden (though no blooms appear):

For compassion's sake ….

…. lie to me.

 

And as my temper drains away,

in thrall to the flowing river,

so grace remains like a stag at bay:

wary of the gift of time, and its giver.

I trail my future like a comet tail,

and my childhood returns with glee!

My past is far more 'Pass' than 'Fail',

so, perhaps (just this once) .... please don't lie to me.

 

Chris Hubbard

2018

 

 

childhooddarknessdreadirritationisolationregrets

◄ Winter

Redemption ►

Comments

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Chris Hubbard

Mon 12th Nov 2018 01:39

Thank you for your kind words. I enjoyed writing this poem,
and I tried to get as close as possible to an ideal structure supporting its ambivalence and sensibilities.
Chris

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Brian Maryon

Sat 10th Nov 2018 17:09

A really good piece Chris with a fine rhyme and rhythm structure.

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Chris Hubbard

Sat 10th Nov 2018 08:04

Hi Taylor,

Your Bio. section just about exactly tracks my own approach to the poetic sensibility. Everyone should - no must - be accepted for their own individual worth.

It's really difficult, I think, to avoid the influence of others who went before us. But we should try as hard as we can to find our own voice; it's there, it just needs freedom and time.

It has taken me more than half a lifetime to find something approaching my own voice (I'm starting to get there, finally).

At the age of 65 (I'm not sure what the world expects from 65 year olds) we all have an infinity of contributions to humanity which never run out.

All the best,

Chris

PS: I feel the same today as I did as a 20 year old!

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Taylor Crowshaw

Sat 10th Nov 2018 06:05

Beautiful Chris..?

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