pearls

Afterthought 1550—Minus One, Minus Another

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2017/01/14

Time was known more by
what we didn't do
than by what we did.
It's the absent things we know,
minus one, minus another. 

We withheld pieces of ourselves,
expecting to do without.
We focused on the words not said,
leaving the others to catch up. 
We made love with the lights on,
ignoring the gods who call from dark.
All those tears we never had to cry,
minus one, minus another. 

We won't see everyone home,
we won't mark everything done,
we won't mention every casualty,
we won't spend every last cent.
Minus one, minus another,
minus one, minus another,
minus one, minus another,
we will be at our best 
with all we weren't. 

Advertisements

Protected: Afterthought 1540—Beer Chaser

Posted in rondel by maggie on 2017/01/11

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Tagged with: ,

Enter your password to view comments.

Afterthought 1477—Zeus’ Dilemma

Posted in quatrain by maggie on 2016/12/13

Had anyone seen our uncle of late?
It'd been said he'd hung Zeus dead
         on a meat hook in his pen.
A policeman went off to investigate
since we hold our gods in as high
         respect as our men.

Turns out to've been a nightmare, seems
Zeus is fine, though our uncle's
         still gone off to hide.
The rede we live by in threats or dreams
is no more relaxed than the rede
         we have as life's guide.

Tagged with: , ,

Afterthought 1474—Seen Enough

Posted in rondine by maggie on 2016/12/11

I've seen enough tears to fill an empty sky
with black holes masquerading as rain 
stinging my face turned up in extreme pain
to pray the gods reveal their reason why
I must endure their storm. Why can't I die?
I no longer care. What have I to gain?
           I've seen enough. 
           
My lover tries to wipe my dark mood dry.
He takes me to the bed where once we'd lain
escaping. "No," I tell him, "Pierce the vein." 
Left then right I close each swollen eye. 
           I've seen enough. 

Tagged with: , ,

Afterthought 1467—Never Will I Be

Posted in terzanelle by maggie on 2016/12/08

I'll never be a friend you want or need
as long as I can't be what you assume
to be the one behind words you misread.

You give freely? I'm wondering, to whom?
Never once will that special one be me
as long as I can't be what you assume.

No matter how I try, I'll never be
a friend you want or need. I'm not —
never once will that special one be me.

What you expect of me I haven't got
nor will I ever get it. I can't do that —
a friend you want or need I'm not.

I can't act like how what you're getting at
when who I'm not is who you say I am,
nor will I ever. Get it? I can't do that.

What an unconscionable unmitigated sham
to be the one behind words you misread
when who I'm not is who you say I am!
I'll never be a friend you want or need.

Afterthought 1427—With Your Hate

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2016/11/24

Why let yourself be so consumed with hate
for whom you once knew as your soul mate?
You steal from yesterday to borrow
today to sacrifice your one tomorrow.

Why settle for your favorite second rate?
Why let yourself be so consumed with hate?
You wrap yourself in the same old nothing new
for hating the one you're doing it to.

Almost more than you hate your own
self, you hate him who loved you alone.
Why let yourself be so consumed with hate
as though not by choice, as if innate?

Hatred's tumor is never benign:
death waits to end its hater's line
yet you can't stop until too late.
Why let yourself be so consumed with hate?

Tagged with: , ,

Afterthought 1423—Raw

Posted in tercet by maggie on 2016/11/23

Love quit us. Done. Cold through.
I reach for you.
You're with another someone new.

Given up on. Abandoned. Left behind.
I hurt for you.
You're with another someone your kind.

What sacrifices get made for security!
I crash for you.
You're with another someone for free.

Afterthought 1420—What Form

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2016/11/22

What form can lock your dreaming to the page
on which your doubts construct their sterile cage?
Set their flights free! Let no star stand still
awaiting time that will not move until.

What form renews itself from stage to stage?
What form can lock your dreaming to the page?
Abandon artificial discipline
threatening to keep your voices in.

Beware the comfort of convenient form —
superficial, usual and lukewarm.
What form can lock your dreaming to the page
on which your fierce desires contain their rage?

Left alone, your structures serve you well:
you condemn your words to silent hell.
Yet breath's certainties you cannot gauge.
What form can lock your dreaming to the page?

Tagged with: , ,

Afterthought 1352—Your Nothings

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2016/10/30

No nothing is the same as any other.

A mathematician you once thought you knew
tried to explain his unique proof of that to me.
He lost me at the part about different infinities
and about lines and curves in complex space
and about time's role in actuarial equivalences.
Or maybe I lost him in an earlier dream he had,
back when the three of us were first together
with nothing expected and nothing promised,
and neither of those the same as this nothing,
this nothing we've had to make something of.

Set it all equal to nothing.

Like the quadratic equation, he says. Like what?
Oh. Another metaphor. Make it all as a metaphor.
Like a metaphor. As though a metaphor. Same as.
I had to learn it the hard way. I had to be nothing.
His quadratic equation's nothing. Euler's nothing.
Einstein's nothing. Aristotle's nothing. Then yours.
Class remained in session. I walked the empty hall.
Outside the fires of riot were lighting up the streets.
A strange woman was taking your place in his bed.
He got rid of her by explaining his proof of nothings.
Turned out she was just Pilate's grandson in drag.
Truth is nothing. No nothing's same as any other.

Divide nothing into itself. Repeatedly.

I always believe you. You made me. He said so too.
So where was I to fly when you showed what I am
to you? All your brochures, they turn into the world
you wage war against. I believe in you. It's nothing
to me to be nothing to you. The sacred statue goes
back to its ancient home tonight. You'll make it up
to me. He works out who everyone is supposed to
be before our eyes. Bank hard left. Make it all yours.