The SwimmersIn the swallowing black of a pre-dawn swimI almost forgot about you again Arms in victory Jubilatory Cascading out water like silver Confetti. If not for Duncan Running, Earlier, From my ground-view tilted action shot Toward me after a fall I began to feel I deserved pain, My tailbone had taken down my name. This need for quick route always my downfall I misjudged the distance of the fence ‘s all But I forgot about that As I forgot rocks The cold, the far shadows Of a towel-thief fox Invisible the pinching crabs and floating tabs The waterlogged carrier-bag; not Man Of War Looming on the seaweed’s moor. The impecunious debt-wish spending, The threat of work in the morning The contract hit waiting hangover All forgotten, done with, over. If not for the fucking guitar Duncan serenading With the wash and the wind as guest musicians It’s tone an ill description Of comfort You never told me why you never played it. An actor’s technique for attention Or were you genuine? Are we not out of love when the bitterness is in? Out of the two, for whom did it begin? Duncan plays for us; because his heart is in it Even as my songs’ survive, I still have to wing it. The Earth with its depth of waters and daughters Needs no one stunned and crying in their quarters Too observant and engaged Too conscious, too sage Aware of the expanse and impel of the night. The dark outweighs the love shown light Is the healing… Now? Please, somehow, Jesus and Angels, and God even swim Whiten my oil-spill devastation dim Be pre-dawn surgeons for forlorn tides And preside beside me and the breaking of the heart, The will to love and the will to be loved. Artfully come to me the ...............lapping of the wash ...........................................................The fizz, ........................................the whizz, .................................................................The pathos .......................................................Splosh. The lap of wash washing, Egg-whiting drag, .................The scurry, .................................... ................................... The pebble of the crag , ..................................................................Hurry the push ......................................................the mush and the gush, The lapping of the wash, Come, Softly come whither I be, In love, bitterness , Inland or sea. © 2003 Once and Future Poems |