Posted in: Lyric Poetry, poem

drive

I know I am angry with most things anger

part of my anatomy of my biosphere of my liver my liver

is angry I know of all things anger but only

almost angry with you

for believing in hope I wish I so wish

hope was mine but it IS just a word do you

see hope in the hedges or just

bushes waiting for spring do you

fear spring will never spring again and if

so how can you live now

how can you feed yourself how

can your nightly dreams stimulate

with wonder and lost memories of things you never knew please

let me have this absence of hope

illusions are wonderful pearls on the night sky of the heart

and when the sun shines only memories can pluck them

or leave them there by character not choice you

are so much you that

I can easily give you and all

other things not mine but hope

I have not to give

I always act and never not

living is the doing and when it stops

my anger will too

I know!

Comments (2) on "drive"

  1. Kenneth Krabat siger:

    Note til den danske udgave mangler

  2. Don Schofield siger:

    So much anger up against “illusions [that] are wonderful pearls on the night sky of the heart.” Thank you for the depth of this poem.

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