Paradox
By queen beatle
- 166 reads
How nice it is to never think of you
even while I think of you.
Unpairing is such sweet paradox.
How good to watch an amber cloud
swallow the low moon;
to see a crow's crop of ripe red berries
hanging bushes heavy
on the first cool night
and not ache from wondering
how I'd describe them to you
just to have something to say.
I pocket each breeze for myself now
hermetically
no threat of dissipation
en route to your response
like so many spent treasures.
From the bar's buttered lights
mirror-gilding the double glazing
to the crisp lemon slicing my gin
in its frosted glass
some happiness is only shared alone.
I delight in my silent greed, and
even now, while I think of you
how nice it is to never think of you.
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Comments
happy thoughts
I found it is better thinking about girls who were kind to me, instead of some who were very ugly with me and not even realising it, you might as well not exist.
I have quite a list of women that were good to me, rather think of kindness, compassion, understanding. Respect. Hope. I now spend my thinking of them rather. Even ones that declined my attentions, but done sincerely and kindly, I love them just as much.
Your descripion of drinking alone in a crowded bar is excellent, the observations acute. I've had a lot of time to think. I've come accross some hairy canaries believe me, cruel, and you by it's fruit. What a waste of time.
Enjoyed your poem, it is filled of meaning. It is fascinating how your poetry has evolved from an innocent teenager's naivity and joy of life, growing to that of a mature woman more experienced in life, understanding and insight, but of the same goodness.
See you Morwenna! Tom
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