Crisis


You are like the news

I hear every day.

A broken record,

not even a good one.

An honorous criminal,

not even a bad one.


I mock you

as a bird would a road kill.

I mock you

as wind would an umbrella.

I mock you

for I cannot mock myself.


You are like a new idea,

inspiring but empty.

A fountain run dry,

not even a beautiful one.

An approachable medusa,

not even an ugly one.


So go, obey the wand.

Disappear, be gone.

You be the zero,

Ill be the one.

I have had enough of Chinese philosophy.

I do not believe in dangerous opportunities.

Category: Poems 15 comments »

15 Responses to “Crisis”

  1. ellen

    It has been so long since I have had these kinds of relationships, David. Maybe never?

    I have been a mother for so long, and only believe in one thing. But this poem makes me want to soothe … (soft smile)

  2. George

    I feel attrition here. And maybe a little of rage on yourself.
    In this story I would wonder what was before?

    A question – has this poem any connection with the one called “Release me”? It has just crossed my mind…

  3. George

    I forgot to say that I like it:-)

  4. admin

    Thanks George, that means a lot.

    I was trying to capture some of the rage that is always there in us – when things/life, doesn’t go the way we want. Of course, this is only a shoulder we can lay our head on, never really a full attitude.

    I’m hoping maybe someone will find solace some day in these words, find empowerment. When I wrote it, yes, I was thinking of a long , long relationship that never really “happened”. But after, was thinking that maybe someone will read it, someone in a real bad relationship (and not just a self absorbed, feel sorry for myself one) will get power from it. Poetry does give power , I hope, I believe…

  5. admin

    Ellen,

    Thank god you haven’t for a long time!! But we all have our struggles and think any reader can sympathize from that perspective.

  6. Ned

    What’s “honorous” supposed to mean? “Honorable”? “Onerous”?

  7. George

    You don’t know how much I understand you. Maybe that is why I see some connection between those two poems. When there is something undone there, you cannot move on…

  8. ellen

    David, I always read these poems like they are today! One of the pitfalls of knowing the poet ; )

    Also, I can be terribly literal.

    I felt the disillusionment in the poem. That’s what made me feel for you. Disillusionment sucks bad.

    But not so much when it is in the past : )

  9. admin

    Ned,

    You caught me!

    Often in a poem, I “invent” words. Poems are a space where you can play with language. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Here, I tried to let it be “soft” but glad you noticed.

    David

  10. George

    Ellen, strange, but I don’t see any disillusionment, rather that anger as I wrote and maybe an attempt to take a dislike to the other person so it wouldn’t be so painful.. sour grapes.
    Only my personal explanation, because I have been there too (not too nice, but it doesn’t last).

  11. ellen

    Yes, George, I can see your point. I think it is in the difference in the way we get angry. When I get angry, I get loud. It is an attempt to show that you can’t fuck with me anymore. But I don’t get pointed- it is a roar.

    For me to get to the point where the other person is a broken record, and not even a good one… that is bitterness, which comes from disillusionment.

    I am hardly ever done in that way. When I am done, I still see the qualities that I once adored in that person, I just can’t take it anymore. Self preservation kicks in.

    There’s only one experience I’ve had that might fit. And I was about as dis-illusioned (stripped of an illusion) as is possible. It took a very long time. And when I finally saw the situation for what it was, it sucked bad.

    But, it has also been freeing. Shedding the scales from my eyes didn’t seem like a moment of anger, though. Deep disappointment, and then moving on. At first having to move on, because I can’t unknow, and then wanting to move on. Enough time spent on that!

    I think it’s made me less romantic, though, or at least less tolerant of mistaking pain for romance, for taking suffering as a barometer for how deep the love is.

    Took years, George, years and years and years (gently laughing). I don’t think I’ll get caught like that again!

    Better not! I’ve got no excuse now.

  12. George

    The stories can vary, the reasons can differ… But you bear the consequences for the rest of your life unless it is covered/rewritten by something stronger.

  13. ellen

    The stories can vary, the reasons can differ… But you bear the consequences for the rest of your life unless it is covered/rewritten by something stronger.

    Wow, George… profound.

    Yup, for me, in my life, this has been true. Is it always true?

    I wonder.

    I’m going to think about this on my river walk today….

    a hug and a wink!

  14. ellen

    Did the subject of your poem look like this?

    Here’s a meduza.

    ; )

  15. George

    Elle, this is certainly not the ugly one o)) Beautiful!!

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