Poetry

POEMOTIONS

Text of book

Part Seven (continued)

Heterosexual Love - Dismissal

Start of page 176 in the book

Congé

By the low stone wall and the rowan tree
I watched for you, and you came to me
you came and laughing, laughing said
that I was not your darling

Scarlet berries one-two-three
scarlet berries I pulled from the tree
you saw and laughing, laughing said
that I was not your darling

Oh no you said, it could not be
I watched you go, and you waved to me
you waved - but laughing, laughing still
and I was not your darling

On the low stone wall by the rowan tree
I sighed for you and what could not be
I sighed, and grieving, grieving knew
that I was not your darling

Start of page 177 in the book

Dead Love

Memories have life, but now you invalidate them all -
from now they will live limp or in distorted shapes.

That recollection of your young face, dazzling
now crumples; blotches appear, and fissures.

Now the grinning mask splits open, stenches now rise
and fill my abandoned void with filth.

Insects now with pincers scuttle, scraping
the surrendered, sundered skin

of your now prone, now harsh and archaic face.

Start of page 178 in the book

Faithful Lover

Can you remember every kiss?
or grow the memories pale and dim?
do you still know what he was to you
and you to him?

Lies on his lips a faint impress
burns in his heart a stubborn glow
are they to die for want of hope
or mercy's show?

Back from the wall that is now your face
not even the faintest echoes skim
he is dead to you, he is dead to you
and you to him

You may think that; it is not true
whatever you do, or do not do
he's not like that, giving up on love
you can never be dead to him

He believes in love, this lover of yours
and will not skim off on a whim
for him love's real, a very big deal
enduring - even for ever

So what will you do about that?

Start of page 179 in the book

Images of You

All of me is images of you
assembled in memory
places are good, animals are fine
only the human is divine

All our treasures stand up in the past
rarely knowing our praise
whatever is now, or on the line
those firmest memories are mine

Images that make up all of me
picture all of you, self-wrapped
you in yourself, nutty eyes a-shine
only your memory is mine

All of me is images of you
assembled in memory
others were good, some of them were fine
only you were in my line

Remember dear, travelling away
onwards to new memory
places are good, animals are fine
only the human is divine

Start of page 180 in the book

Solitary Diner

Pity O pity me, dining alone
with naught but a volume of Auden;
and no human soul to bore with my chat:
I can't watch you eat, you're not here.

Attentive to every one of your tales
I would have been at this table:
you would have told me of everything
that went on today in your stable.

That mercy I've lost now you've gone;
have left just this printed page,
this printed thought, wrought, overwrought
over some hours or fadeless days.