Letter To... From A Classic Archetypal Dope
Now as I account for myself
I know the fight is over
You made me feel if I was worth saving
I was worth having
And I knew as the man flattered to grow
He also learned the crafts of
Clinging on to his sleazy self
When we have to account for ourselves
When we have to take stock of the unaccountable
When
When we have but ourselves to account for
When all but you and I alone are left
Standing
Amid the crowds that hover at my presence
In your eye
Amid the lashing lolling tongues
Criticising
Amid the squelching claws of distrust
And the deriding press of after thought
What are my lean-throated words
What are my bleating pleas of
What
When we have to account for ourselves
In the awakening stillness of other judgment worlds
What account do we have for ourselves
But the rabid thirst of a search
When we may have met in this or that town
But in this land and in this continent
This world
This incarnation
This temporal crevice
You in the fresh burst of put-up discovery
I in the aftermath of debunking rediscovery
Time was then held alike that summer
Growing only to fruition in our recognition
My senses were growingly numb from blunt use
Burning when the electric fondling
Dared enter and worry the dusty corners
I saw you then
Not as the strapping dash of bubbliness
Nor as the plaitted innocence of schooling youth
Trundling the scenes of covertly revisited crimes
Forming with others the dutiful good habits
Nor as the tall preening blot of shyness
At the hedge of a group picture
Fronting a personality
Dicing friendship
[...] Read more
poem by T. Wignesan
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
