I was just floating around somewhere

I was just floating around somewhere

in someone's back garden when he came in

with his guitar and his spectacular verve

and I made myself wide with love, signed up

for life, I had only my body and my stories and

I made them known, and we bonded our lives

together by every free seam, but the truth is

I'm still floating around because his guitar

is not my guitar, his verve is not my verve,

I'm just trying to float around him now,

a solitary planet in luxuriant orbit

around a blazing star, though he doesn't like

to be called that, when we nestle down,

we're just children of the Nile in the basket

we have woven together, woven with everything

we could muster against a big live thing that

keeps flowing, keeps making us fight to hold

and know and love, even if the knowing is there,

knowing is not enough, knowing is dangerous

without its counterparts, for we are more than

floating stories, we must act and bleed into

separate channels of life.

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Real poetry with real pathos. Funny how we tend to acquiesce due to our own frailty and inadequacy and revere those with 'talent' extroverted personalities in order to try to fill the gaps. And that can leave even wider gaps.