loss – Page 3 – three good words

March 19, 2016May 16, 2020

outsourced

we need to re-learn how to take care of each other
we have outsourced so much
even the care of those closest to us
those who were, once, beloved.

we have to re-learn how to take care of each other
to offer solace without fear
without plots of retribution
without vitriol and viciousness
but with that rare thing: kindness, gentleness, sincerity.

why has that become so rare?
why is that not something we can expect
why is it the exception, rather than the rule?
a lot has come to my attention recently
about those left outside, alone, ‘to the winds’
freezing with a body warm
utterly lost with Google Maps uploaded.

we have un-learned the language of emotion
we can no longer speak of love without deconstruction
without cynicism and scoffing
we have no vocabulary to articulate the sublime
that allowed a poet, once, to stand on a bridge
and hail the sun, the sky, an entire realm.

we have lost that primal sound of succour
that beating-drum directness that reaches heart and soul
deep down into the darkest parts of the human condition
breaking through the man-made clouds with a ray of
sublime light that others of less sophisticated times
would have called divine.

we need to learn again
this language of love
langue, parole, signifier, signified
all meanings together, wrapped into each other
used in all languages known to man, woman, child
even if they were once warped by Barbara Cartland.

(and so what for the lace and corsets
so what for the gentlemen in bespoke suits
leaving their card at the door?
they have their place in the joyous abandon of make-believe.)

does that lessen the value of a warm hug, a sweet embrace?
that moment where you come together
with someone who is genuinely lonesome
and needs that one thing you can give, freely:
solace, comfort
peace.

October 22, 2015

but world enough, 1

The surf rushed high over the sand, the beach was quiet.
Joggers could be seen in the distance, their dogs at their side.

Lem stood at the porch banister, watching the sun rise. He never got tired of watching dawn turn to day, the grey melting into yellows and reds, that first purple glow that finally turned to blue.

It would be cloudy today, grey, the sky was already covered, but that would be in a few hours. He hardly needed to look now, he’d started sensing the weather again.

He waited until the sun was up, drinking from his cup, always white. He was into white again, everything was white in the house, the couches, the walls, the sheets. Not glaring, that worried the women. Creams were good, eggshell and beige. The only other colours were the plants, tall, fanning out in greens, and whatever paintings he could still look at.

Lem finished his cup, enjoying it to the last drop. It was good, he memorized that recipe and stocked up, he’d never gotten the ingredients here. He watched two joggers pass with their dogs, one after the other, both with plugs in their ears, the woman’s ponytail swaying to the rhythm of her run. Her dog was a large lab, it raced forward into the surf.

Lem watched the four, two humans, two canines, and remembered all the dogs he once had. He should get one again, it was always good having them around. He was into cats right now, though, and as if she knew, the young one came out, brushing along his shins. He picked her up and put her on the banister, feeling her purr under his hand.

He had three cats right now, all of them strays. They came cautiously, first inspecting the terrace, then the food he left out, then the others. Most went away again, but the three liked each other and stayed. Once he’d seen them around often enough he did everything that needed to be done, and now, every morning, at least one of them walked around his legs when he opened the doors to the terrace. waves 2

The young one had enough and jumped down, running back in. Lem followed her, sliding the doors closed. He went to the kitchen, started the dishwasher, and went upstairs.

The girl was still asleep.
He watched her, young limbs, young face, bright, healthy hair. She would sleep till ten, eleven. He watched her sleep a little longer, remembering all the others he could remember.

He sometimes wished they knew, but then there were enough who knew.

Lem turned and went to the bathroom, bright, spacious, facing the beach. The mirror said what it always said, that nothing had changed, that nothing would ever change. He traced the scar, a shadow now, hardly visible. You only saw it if you knew it was there.

October 3, 2015

once more

the sun once in bloom
now alive, hidden
in a land of green and black and gold

O, what grace is given
to know
all that we have known
and seen amongst us all
paved along the waves
once crossed, bound in stone

built in those days
when we still knew forever
a time of tears and laughter
flesh and bone
not lost
but no longer known

and so it goes
or so they say
the bells chime
the wind blows
and time is born once more.

June 9, 2015

there is light

the sword of a soothing look
cuts loose the meteor of affection

joy withers
in a moment of crisp
bright, brittle
understanding
frissoned with threads of doubt

of sight and senses
but the heart knows
what is meant
and will not concede to
willful self
deceit

three heartbeats worth of relief
hope restored
there is light
no comet flashing
stark against the void

but an ancient fire
kindled by the first of flames
alive, living
knowing, known.

January 19, 2015January 19, 2015

alma mater

strange to retrace
the steps you once took
eagerly expecting an eduction
and getting more, way more
than you first expected

not just the books bought
and the papers written
but the friends and heartbreak
the clandestine lovers
breaking up in furious tears and shouting
once discussed and inevitably discovered
yes, you two, I know who you are…

the novelties found
the loyalties broken
the real friends made
those many words said
and unspoken
in between and all around
the hours sitting, pouring, agonizing
studying, practicing, memorising
and finally, finally, understanding
all those things you’ll actually
– I guarantee you –
really need later on
in the big bad rest of the world
with its sharp fangs and cold snout

that wide open place where suddenly
being clueless is a country of its own
which you have a permanent visa for
coz it doesn’t get better, does it?
oh no, it gets so much more
like an effing sitcom

where time and again
you’re made to understand
the connection between bat excrement (urgh)
and fucking crazy, excuse my French
(why French anyway?)

and you know youth is not wasted on the young
it’s exactly what’s needed to get through it all
and not end up neurotic, eccentric,
not to mention unnecessarily high strung

oh, wait…
naw, it’s all good
it’s the simple fact that
now, years later
you’re no longer either one
or the other
you’re who you are:
still a kid and genuinely grown up.