Road Kill

Sometimes I love you so much I think I might explode,

End up like a dead fox, all fur and guts on the road.

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‘The Present’ by Michael Donaghy

For the present there is just one moon,
though every level pond gives back another.

But the bright disc shining in the black lagoon,
perceived by astrophysicist and lover,

is milliseconds old. And even that light’s
seven minutes older than its source.

And the stars we think we see on moonless nights
are long extinguished. And, of course,

this very moment, as you read this line,
is literally gone before you know it.

Forget the here-and-now. We have no time
but this device of wantonness and wit.

Make me this present then: your hand in mine,
and we’ll live out our lives in it.

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I listen as you sleep,
You sound like a fish
And I wonder where you are swimming?
You should really wake up
But I’ll let you dream in this warm white ocean,
Of the currents pulling you and I along,
A little while longer

Am

 

Sleep, be my friend,
Need me
I’m tired.
Take me in your arms and
Lie with me a while
Whisper softly in my ear
How much you have missed me
Until I am dreaming because
I don’t hear from you much anymore
And it keeps me awake.

Distance

Inspired loosely, among other things, by theNaPoWriMo prompt for April 5th, here is my poem, Distance, based upon the poem Les Distances by Phillippe Jaccottete and Robert Doisneau’s photograph, Le baiser de l’hotel de ville.

Distance

Stranger,
I hear your voice
Words from another tongue,
A mother tongue,
To which you are child
In this foreign land.
I smile politely,
Listener,
Only to your tune. You
Will have to show me what you mean instead,
Take me to bed,
Press your lips to mine
Make me understand.

 

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Les Distances by Phillipe Jaccottete

Tournent les martinets dans les hauteurs de l’air :
plus haut encore tournent les astres invisibles.
Que le jour se retire aux extrémités de la terre,

apparaîtront ces feux sur l’étendue de sombre sable…

Ainsi nous habitons un domaine de mouvements
et de distances; ainsi le cœur
va de l’arbre à l’oiseau, de l’oiseau aux astres lointains,
de l’astre à son amour. Ainsi l’amour
dans la maison fermée s’accroît, tourne et travaille,
serviteur des soucieux portant une lampe à la main.

 

 

 

I Miss You

I miss you like I’d miss a morning cup of tea,
Or my toothbrush,
Or a useful part of me.
I miss you like I’d miss my umbrella on a rainy day,
Or my socks when my feet are cold,
Or anything you have to say.
I miss you like I’d miss chocolate if I gave it up for lent,
Or cake,
Or all the money I shouldn’t have spent.
I miss you like I’d miss my name if no one knew who I was,
Or music or poetry
Or just because…because…

Near by Carol Ann Duffy

Sometimes other people’s words are just far better than your own at capturing a feeling or a thought…particularly if they happen to be the words of an award winning poet laureate…

Far, we are near, meet in the rain
which falls here; gathered by light, air;
falls there where you are, I am; lips
to those drops now on yours, nearer …

absence the space we yearn in, clouds
drift, cluster, east to west, north, south;
your breath in them; they pour, baptise;
same sun burning through to harvest
rainfall on skin, there, far; my mouth
opening to spell your near name.