The Unknowing Love (1989)

The unknowing love of life within
     The breadth of unseen
Love that dictates, not understands
Compassion that awaits but never mends
A serpent’s tongue that begs kinder gift
Of trusted faith that lifts
Steps in darkness to certainty
Let me, let me, be.
I cannot answer, my voice falters
To have been heard at least was good
I cried out loud as I could.
Naught understood
But, “I was good!”
Winter, long past the summer of youth
Determines my fate, marks little use.
Cannot resist, unable to refuse
Allow me this one chance to choose
Nothing to gain is neither to lose
I shall face, naked, the Whip O’ Life
Rip open my heart, ride me of strife
Blank forever this thinking mind
Cut-off (they say, from the) production line.
Explore the dark choice consciously:
What will the world think of me?
Who scribbles short of poetry
In death invents a society.


1989

Quick reflections then of the odd futility of the experiences we seem to gain from mistakes in relations in our lives, where perceptions don’t match. Then in seeking catharsis, reads and writes poetry, to only to find other more eloquent voices from the past who have spoken of the same weakness of heart (Dead Poets Society?).