There's things you can do and things you just don't because if you did you'd have to hide and once you hid you'd never have lied more than that day you found you'd hid at her door
And whilst I'm still unsure and the door in question remains half ajar I'd not tarry I don't think in the blink of an eye which caresses what it espies when looking forward to you
And so now my insecurity belies my other erstwhile uncertainty: I've lived my life without a wife as well as I could ever have done
That's all it's been and all I saw and then today I'm really happy and all up for a SAPPY review of you and me and me and you
And equally time to rhyme the end and equally lines we read between and equally things we just don't either except, that is, when yes we do
And then it's clearly me and you and then it's obvious: never true and then it's never less than us because it's time we began to trust ...
because when you love unconditionally is when you arrive not at bill gates but at real pearly gates where your place isn't a state of vatican embezzlement but of true affection and amusement and of honest kindnesses expressed like the best espresso you ever sipped being your lips that day on dublin river and so this christmas i hope to find you on stockholm isle and maybe we spend a while together where everyone can see us holding our palms out not in surrender or white flag but in the glorious colours of blue and yellow one a sanctuary from all that is bad and one fighting on behalf of us daily by the minute and to the second never seconded from anything that wasn't a deep belief in the fact that putin is not mad but just entirely and completely bad without redemption and without ascension and only awaiting if some day a justice of a natural kind may be delivered duly: the descent to the darkest embers of unending fires
and so all that's being left for me to say is how much i love you and always shall and if you cannot show yourself now or cannot yet or may not any more then there will always be a time i will find time for you when you can finally hold my hand again and make me the happiest man who ever walked this rock proud and tall and amongst it all because that's what this is all about dearest soulmate of forever where our shared and intrinsic souls our fabulously intertwined souls become arts of the heart and our work then finds itself never-ending
and our life is always of utility now even as distances make the kiss on the lips quite impractical for the moment still one day we may one day say it's time to hug each other in beautiful lacy embrace NOT of the poison-laced juliet or romeo but being just the moments when utterly chilled together on common sofa we end our days in an uncommonly handsome conversation of a meeting of minds and body night after day and in all our joyous beams not of foundation or construction but actually just of sun where your eyes glisten and shine with happiness and mine weep and sob as finally i am accepted exactly for what i am by the only woman who knew what made me right again
just that state out there (if you're ever so lucky and if fortune blesses you and if your life is one of fortunate outcomes and not of war nor conflicts horrific) but that state that one which makes you unconditionally beloved without further recourse to the cruel and without further imposition of those gruels of incarceration i suffered once upon a crime but just a hand again a hand outstretched never clasping or grasping but compassionate and warm and slender-fingered and SO elegantly yours after all
and so i do await that moment one day in the near future when maybe soon and if not then well ... then maybe later you may grace my presence and give me the notion and opportunity to remind you of all that you have meant to me and mean verily still not out of illness or infirmity but simply the veracity of knowing the soul IS where it all lies in truth: a very human redemption ... for us all
when stuff doesn’t stuff it’s something for sure and maybe all life can offer is to get by after all: maybe greatness was never our thing and maybe it shouldn’t ring out and maybe from the first day we should give in because in the end being hurt is what life’s about and the rerouting of a social re-engineering is a quimera of meaning’s total absence
because why should anyone want to be purposeful: why should anyone have any right to expect a better shirt than the one a man loses when he lies in the gutter and fails to see the stars as things of beauty but rather sees them blinking furiously like rabbits in the presence of horrifying headlight whilst these encroaching tears fall no longer tall and proud from person with straight back and some kind of ability to tack brave sails which navigate something of use
and then neither burgeoning out loud those emotions fine that truly redeem in an instant of grandiose compassion absolutely every ill that precedes still and now even so all these humiliations this INhumanity dares to impose on itself
yes it’s true: love is all you need but it needs equally to exist not attacked by petri dish of incessant and illogical bacteriological warfare where every kiss imagined only serves to sustain the unreal
and in an existence where true love is mainly non-existent every kiss imagined is mainly unreal: each becoming something just about wholly falsified and hardly enjoyed and usually reprimanding and generally rejecting of the other person who strives even then to pen a love note or speak a kind word or have their truth somehow heard
for in its requesting and ultimate denial the kiss is lost to the ether and either it never had a right to exist or it never had a right to be thought up in the first place where one idiot considered a space existed whilst a savvier soul knew it didn’t because mainly that’s what it’s all about: love’s natural state should be one where kindness is communicated and passion only rides when permission becomes a deep embrace as a taste of freedom is enjoyed by the parties concerned as if with no concerns
and if mostly love is a matter of unrequited fates and this is its natural state still we should not believe such a situation or this sort of location damns us inevitably to an experience of poverty-stricken absences
because it’s also quite true that the real absence of love in our lives truly makes us value our memories more than otherwise we might have been able to
and so it’s clear that whether love is real or love is a mirage of painful fool when the old adages tell us it’s the only thing worth fighting for in the life of any human being they are absolutely right: because if we can survive and stay alive in the utter incompleteness of a messy and unsustainable trajectory without love just imagine what its presence might move were this thing we call stuff not stuffing us at all
not on wings because that's a different word and never simple because that wasn't to be my fate but to my mother for sure in a place distant from the shores which my soul already knew about and deep in the shires of an oxford old and sometimes wise and then again sometimes not but always where i was begotten even where more likely forgotten than remembered
and although they say your birthday's yours it ain't as far as the memory's concerned because way-back-then is much too far for one's adult ken to ever recall whether real or not whether unknown or set in the stone of societal acknowledgement because what's yours indivisibly is not yours to reproduce and so the only thing you have to go on is the deepest love however expressed of the one person who'll always know
and so i reckon this thing and it's this thing i now wonder if for the rest of our lives it's something we strive for and then again something we fail generally to achieve at all being the return in some way to the womb of that woman who made us the man we now see and being something that some see as a beautiful attempt whilst others much more coarse choose to resist all impulses to accept
and if i am right about this matter of mothers and how we must choose between either embracing with equal love or ejecting brutally from further contact the reality of their power so compassionately ceded and yet also seeded absolutely generously and fine to the children we grow into and the adults of much later ... for it's then when we realise the truth must become us NEVER to eject anything brutally in respect of the women
who bring us ALL into a world we should learn to treasure much more freely than we have been able to do until now because oh -- how wow! -- if we follow another path from this minute on the world in so many ways shall right itself like burdened vessel no longer slumping like sad human soul balled out by cruel words and embattled by selfish business models whose only aim is to maim our hearts
so let's end on a high note being that one of birth and motherly strengths and the things we know and the things we still don't about how the power that is and the power that won't can become the power that will and the power that shall when people like me being humans and men learn to pay attention to the wisdoms of those who know much more about THAT then: when each of us came first into this world
Poem 2:
And so what follows is the poem which forms the second part of this pair. And yet another description of a powerful woman: but powerful out of measure and enquiry and love and reality, not out of an ambition where skies might acquire castles of siege-like mentalities …
11 lines of love, truly kinder
No, I'm not brave at all But I find courage when I need to Except in this matter Of expressing to the person I'd most give up my life for The reasons why that life would be worth giving up
So once again, in lines of black and white No greys around And no uncertainty in sight Here are the wherefores of my love for you: The wherefores I find myself Unable to ever rue
Because since we met It's always been you And since we were separated That second time of awful pain And since all those words That indicated absolutely no more
And no more forever And no more for a day And no more for a minute And no chance to say Even so for my soul It's always been you
Even so for my heart My art has flourished broad And grown like an unseemly soul Engaged not by ring But blocked with stony stall As if the marketplace
Had to be my funeral pall And yet all this time In rhymes which I wrote I conserved my hope That I was mistaken When I considered the chance You were my breaking-point
Instead of my making-point: That fabulous moment in every lucky man's life When he finds not a wife Or chattel to own But rather a spirit who must liberate and free As everyone knows every woman must be
And so then no further May I avoid the subject of these verses Because for many a long time The rehearsals have been in vain And you can't say in any way (Not even myself in truth may I claim)
That more time is needed In order that I clarify properly my view About the person of beauty and grace You'll always be for me: That's all it is, my dearest friend If friend is the word I have a right to now use
Because really deep down and really profound All I now wish for is this: That your indivisible rights To resist further furrows and fearful frowns Become the proudest signs Of your liberties unbound
And as in all good films, the name is under the actor it isn’t, because otherwise we’d be fighting not to be second in everything … 🙃
there's one thing i'd like to ask you now because i know you read what i say and how
i know you can read these words before i ever post so that with these words i need just to write knowing you'll read them fine
and i know your mum is reading them too and i'm glad you are as well because if the cards i've chosen are the cards of my heart
then the cards when i gift them will restart three lives and maybe more: not only for myself and not only for the person i love the most
but also serving to make good and fair the pain we suffered rudely and maybe that ... yes maybe this and maybe ever so crudely too
and i care little now to attribute blame because blame doesn't fit the human spirit
as i see it: not when human it is and desiring of an embrace and a taste of true lips
and the hug of compassion and a laughter that never shames: just these sorts of things that bring us all into being again
and then once more manage to open the doors to ways of waking in mornings galore where wanting to do so is easy as pie
and wry scornful actions no longer pepper our days and the grimace of hurt is left fabulously in the lurch
as we realise that true expressions of love repair and renew and heal ever so fine if given the chance to emerge from their dens
and lairs and burrows of hidden sorrows: because this is what i want and not from tomorrow
this is what i want to say right today to both of you too it's absolutely true: thank you in a way that is as irish as can be for making it all finally possible
that true love may happen: no longer sacrificial in any way but just as an open-handed life that loves itself and its possessors as equals
and so once again with both i say the persons i hurt so many times for real and the persons i meant no harm to in any way that here's the truth beyond my desires
in no way did i strive to make them higher: true love is what it says and it would have been easier it's true to fall in love with someone else
and not in love with you but i didn't choose to love you this way because i thought it tool of hate and although it all seemed planned so clear
the first in my mind was not to take vengeance on the prior: not in this way was it my intention nor even serving the purpose of obsession
because now as i feel it and sense it so deep the only thing i regret in all of this was my impropriety when this heart did love and finding myself incapable of discretion
and choosing to use my words in poems everyone detested: and so if anything i can manage to make right and now
i'd like it to be to chat with the both of you and how and show you that life can be beautiful and good when a table and food and a predisposition
on all sides to learn from the hurt of the past so the passed it does become and finds itself replaced firmly
with the hand and hug of friendship long: never lost again to the anger of all that because as the man i now do slowly become
it's my hat to two irish ladies of the very best there've ever been i wish to tip and salute in this truth as i mentioned above in love:
friendship beyond everything because this is it and this is fine and this is grand and grander than all and this ... why ireland (it's true)
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