one day the poet will die…

One day the poet will die and the flowers

on his grave wilt, unremembered.

The bearer of human longing will falter

under that weight and fall or wander

one night, and reappear after dead years,

a pale image home from the war. Some days

I too would lie down after long walks

and stare at the clouds or the cracks

on the wall, beaten. I have felt stone-hard,

and nothing; but love mostly, and longing.

 

One day the poet will die long suffering

the blows and the cracks from inferiors;

disrespect, ironic stares, and mock

wonderment. I will live on I suppose

vicariously, grieve; wander narrow

streets at night, fall into reverie

swayed by distant music on the breeze.

Intermittently, my thoughts are with you,

and at each stride I envision what to do;

and with my feet beat time as I would you.

 

14 October 2015

 

5 thoughts on “one day the poet will die…

  1. I like Dean’s comment in which he touches on, as he said, a ‘repositioning’ or was it ‘refiguring’ of the poet in you poems. I used to think the image of the ‘lonely poet’ as figured in Hesse’s poem was outmoded, but under all the digital glitter the lonely visionary goes through yards at evening, either collecting other’s unpicked lemons, or ‘starting at clouds, cracks on the wall’ out in his own space at the edge of it all. As you so eloquently put it:
    a pale image home from the war. Some days
    I too would lie down after long walks
    and stare at the clouds or the cracks
    on the wall, beaten. I have felt stone-hard,
    and nothing;

  2. thank yous. the poet Hesse lives on thru his work: the opening lines of my poem are directly influenced by a line of one of his poems. i don’t know if that’s the word, Dean: from butterfly to caterpillar, maybe: certainly, i’ve turned in recently, even more: solitude, bitter experience, suffering borne etc etc. i’m not as stoical as the I of my poems. I still use the mask. But less impersonal: i hope to make you hear the heartbeat, like the footsteps at the end of the poem

  3. feel a metamorphosis taking place in your work of recent…is that the right word? a new ‘figuring’ of place for the poet in the poem

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