Love's Realism
A poem of disabused experience. By way of comparison, here are links to a couple of early
poems of a more hopeful persuasion: ‘My Living’, written in simple syllabics,
dates from c. 1973-6 and was posted on 3 September '13; it can be seen here; and ‘Though the Weekday Go’, again in syllabics with a count of 9 and 8,
written in 1976 and posted on 5 July '13; it can be seen here.
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Decades
of years I’ve spent
Raging at loss,
Angered
by what love meant,
Its
heart-confusing gloss;
No
lover would remain
Long
enough to explain.
An
old man now, excised
Of passion’s roar,
I
pace out days unprized
Between
my bed and door;
Unchanced
to take or give,
What’s
left for me to live?
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©
July 2014