alone, I find the oceanic feeling
which philosophers long rhapsodized of
like quicksilver swallowed and sunk
a heavy stone within me
that thins to blood and courses fire;
to be is to realize
when there is none to see
when there is none to hear
remember your heart as witness
do not go gentle into that good night
the child who you once were
looks upon you like a sun
works of art
that they are one
Too long I’ve been
kowtowing to you
begging pardon for
the ways I don’t suit your mood
meet your expectations
or wear the right sort of panache.
Now you tell me I’ll never get up
and my eyes sting because
my knees creak, arthritic
when I try to stand.
I grunt and roll over
the asphalt a hot
First things first:
You’re blocking my sun.
Get the fuck out.
You problem solve by grabbing
a black portmanteau
and a fedora weathered
by sand and sun,
coming back to me
air-mailed or sea-driven
after loneliness forces
But today, I trail across a globe
with five fingers of possibility
powered by anger, but more:
an intrinsic love of self.
I refuse any longer
to be your anchor.
Games of luck and games of chance
Flying a kite on a warm summer’s day
Are wonderful, stress-free pastimes
Those childhood modes of play.
But do not think to tinker with my heart
To take it apart and wait until I erect it again
Do not mistake an emphatic “NO” for a start
And resume those cruelest forms of trickery.
That façade that proclaims kindness is false
That smile only searches for a new toy to break
Like a self-deluded hero
You mistake a friend as a vampire to stake.
And though I loved you, and showed myself true
I love myself more, than to be treated so by you.
Your memory sits on my soil.
Like a stone monument, I cannot move it.
Like a stone monument, I cannot deface or raze it.
I cannot dig up the ground on which it stands.
But I shall let the ivy grow over it;
I will reclaim all of me.