the people on the ground,
heads bent,
un-phased
and unable to look at the ever reaching sky
“is it worth it?”
they ask,
“what,
i was just little boy yesterday carrying my book bag,
the sun hanging deep and low over my brow
and my forehead stank of breath ad of saltwater
tears, and–”
The shapes become all engrossing, so
i find some
recluse
in an old painted book store
of who-knows where
suddenly
as i read a line from a silent ode he brushes against me and i don’t
know what is happening and suddenly he
is with me and suddenly he
is around me surrounding me and
the shouts of the street people seems to die in the
sound of his voice;
“ENTER MY MIND”
he says
(that’s a command)
“let’s
enter it
together
and see
the glorious undertaking of you and me”
his eyes like seascapes
or sky-scapes
of piercing blue fantasies
as if
he was always
there
but with a rush of the train and the steam he’s gone
in the blink of an eye and a lash he’s gone
in the mood of a novel or book he is gone
and the slight inclination of head he is gone
and i lost that sky….
Now looking up to the expansive light
so much like his dazzling
unshakably passionate eye
i find myself on the street
like all the countless others,
among the thousands of women and children–i am just like them
and the whisper of giving up—i am one of them
and the shouts of the street
i am them.
love
seemed to pass me only as i was ready
in the fashion of
true bittersweet punishment;
i sat on a fountain and spilled coins from my pockets
and every wish was a wish for him.
now i am holding him once more
and he surrounds and envelops the air
but this time i am dreaming it,
and this time the pavement seems all too hard
and the spurs in the ground digging at my heels making them bleed
will you please
tell me
if i can even breathe
in this,
without at least some
well-deserved
exhilaration?
I think
in that case
i might just need
for you to feel
discovery
(but oh
it’s a pity i found the loveliest boy
In town
when he was just about
to wreck his vengeance
on me)
Copyright 2014 Golden Star Poetry
Golden Star Poetry 