A Broken Cup
Dear Eugene,
A lousy poem I wrote today. I might make it better, but that will take a worse day.
Who wants to speak forever
From a place of poverty?
End of a rope you let me hang
The long and short of my misery
"Daddy, daddy, did you forget about me?"
Melodrama in high key
Is it music to your ears
Pounds to the crash of tears?
You give me Good News
But can I do without the bad?
A shade of darkness you insist
A black bride I can't refuse
In a village of the damned
We exchange smiles, shake hands
Not much crying going on
To do that alone we stand
An ounce of happiness
Costs an ounce of the exact same
A fair price I paid twice
Now nothing left to my name
To gain is to lose
The gist of it I get
To live is to die
Can't get over that yet
I walk in cemetery
To learn from the experienced
For every word I spoke for them
They spoke a word to me
I'd lack nothing
If only you'd fill me up
But how does it work
With your gift of this broken cup?
Yours, Alex
Dear Eugene,
ReplyDeleteA lousier poem I wrote tonight. I can’t make it better, not even a worse day.
Your back turns
To the Christmas tree
Robed in shadows
A whisper of inquiry
How obscene to be unhappy?
When nothing is broken
Not the cup or dream
The heart unshaken
Coin in juke box spins
Dancing knees necks chins
Merry-go-round
Half way in half life out
“My love, my love, did you forget about me?”
Melancholy in high key
Is it music you cannot hear?
Strikes on all octaves my dear
“A shade of darkness you insist
A black bride I can’t refuse”
Mine always you remain
November speaks of my chain
“Nobody feels any pain
Tonight as I stand inside the rain”
Now turn back
To the Christmas tree
And tell Him
What do you see?
Yours, Kate