Loser
Loser
Effing loser;
The word echoes in my chamber
Of thought, in my chambers
Of doubt: in all there is and all
That ever beckoned, in all that will
Forever be, forever become
And eventually be
Bequeathed;
Loser
Loser
Effing loser,
The word that will evermore echo
In my heart.
Part of me knows the truth:
The second floor flooring
Wonโt collapse; yet a part of me
Knows the truth: any day now.
Part of me knows the truth:
The roof wonโt dislodge and land
In my immaculate garden; yet
A part of me knows, and panics
Every time the wind blows.
Part of me knows the truth:
The world will not end
Before my time is up; yet a part
Of me, the self, disconnected
From the world of men, knows
The world will end
Before my time.
Part of me knows the truth:
There is no truth, this is only
Me in a state of pretend
Paranoia.
I saw the sunset over Santorini,
The desperate dying of a day
Like our love destined to fade;
I saw the sun sink beyond me,
My thoughts turned to Thera:
Her passion once erupted while
Mine, oh mine, this cold northern
Heart without passion or pine
Looked upon the pairs of doves
Desperately seeking love
In the setting sun of Santorini.
We joked of men coming,
Of men with purpose,
Of men bringing white jackets
With extra long sleeves.
We joked of men coming,
Of men with stern faces,
Of men in white coats coming
To lock me up.
We joked of men coming,
Of men with hateful eyes,
Of men sent to incarcerate
The one true self.
We joked once long ago, voices
In unison laughing at the prospect
Of men coming for me, me, me
But their gods chose my final frock:
A white jacket with extra long sleeves.
Beyond my breaking belief
An abode; the bell every hour
On the hour summoned the Dead
And the Dreary, the Worried
And the Weary;
A branch off a master trunk
Old as the dusty dreams
Said to be the only truth
Worth clinging to;
Beneath a dust cover high above
Rattling remains of one who spoke
At length and at depth and at
Everyone and everything
Congregated; now silence fill
The void left to those still present:
The Dead and the Dreary,
The Worried and the Weary, in an
Abode far beyond
My fascination.
Breathless boredom and chains
I cannot feel; cannot turn this wheel
Of fortune: I wish I could
Go beyond, break their glass ceiling:
Invisible dreamless foe,
One you insist keep me Earthbound,
keep me Unfound and Unremembered;
As time moves on, ticking โ tocking
I remain. I remain. I remain still
As stillness sought
By a chastised child,
Out of breath but bound
To steaming trains and
By invisible chains
Of boredom.
Angels! Angels! Hear me!
My destiny lies elsewhere, my
Lies lies far beyond these shores,
Far beyond their comprehension;
Angel! Angel! Please descend!
My painted face and frozen lakes
Summon no companions, shapes
No future: backwards the sight,
Backwards the mind of one
Abandoned and obliterated
By She who wore three faces;
Angel of my prayers โ hear me.
Hear me and respond.
Hear me and go beyond
These shores and show me
Where my destiny lies,
Where I can find my answers โ
Or my perpetual bliss.
Is there ever love at dusk,
As the blue moon rises
Above abandoned treetops;
As dawn breaks without echoes
Of birdsongs once composed
In a garden forever green
By a gardener no longer loving;
As noontime kneels and bows
To the whims of the final few
Sighs of abandonment: her love
Protruding; her shadow
A high tide
In moonlight.
Is there ever love
At dusk,
At dawn,
Or at her kneeling noon.
