Skip to main content

The Apple Cart

(I was) upset with you today, after or because
(You were) upset with me, but it was "with" not "at". 
(We were) upset about what was upsetting us,
And whether it was this or it was that,
I was, you were, we were in this together,
Just as we are, as we will be forever,

And if (when) you are upset with me because
Of something I have done or failed to do,
Whatever it may be, or is, or was,
I'll do it, or undo it, all for you
Because I want to be with you forever.
I am, you are, we'll get through this together,

And such is love: though we fall repeatedly,
That which was promised once will always be.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

First Post

A dozen blogs preceded this one, but this one will be different.  This blog will, hopefully, replace the hundreds of moleskines I have bought over the years, not to mention the backs of envelopes and other scraps of paper I have scribbled on.  It is time to get modern, and paperless! That means this blog will be very different indeed, because now this is my scratchpad, for all to see.  I will edit as I go, deleting the rougher drafts and polishing up the better efforts, but there will be half efforts and false starts that I hold on to, some that I may set aside and forget, even a few I may regret.  But I will also try to structure the blog as I go, so the real keepers can be seen more prominently. Simorgh Press is the name I chose about ten years ago for my first vanity published book, Thirty Birds, which is also a blog out there somewhere.  I may resurrect that book and other past work on these pages, eventually, but first - there is a poem I've got rattlin...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Sweetest Dream

We are such stuff... Whan that Aprill... Winter kept us warm... A poem in honor of the first seven lines of T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land When we should sleep, perchance to dream of rest, We wake up in the middle of the dream, And, face to face with all our restlessness, We realize: the more we dream the less We sleep.  Yet in our deepest sleep we seem To seek the sweetest dream: forgetfulness. To let the mountain memories of yes- terday, the pushing pulling of the stream, The ocean of tomorrow's wantonness Be all forgotten: sleep without the stress Of time and place or meaningfulness, dream Beyond the test of schedule or address, Past all interpretations, dream the dream Of peace and find the stream that lets you rest.      The sweetest dreams we don't remember.      In deepest winter we sleep the best. A winter sleep is warm and long and safe inside.  The doors are shut, the blinds are drawn and we are undercover and ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Something Different

Reflections of The Waste Land, lines 19-30 And still those voices are calling from far away... I have no answer in this place. I’m in the irony of space Reinventing Major Tom Every fifty years or so. I want to hide from the sun, Clutch the earth and feel it under me, The dirt from where I come To where I go. I want to run. I want to hide In the shadows of my mind Of a morning stretched before me And an evening closing in. I can’t understand the voice Calling me a child of choice, heir apparent, prince of mortals, Son of man. I want to understand But I don’t know what to say. The sun has been relentless And the garden’s far away. Planet Earth is gray And I haven’t got a clue. I don’t know what to say And I don’t know what to do Show me a hard rock world or a mote in the universe, a resting place or a tombstone to tip; Show me a shelter from the sun or a rock to roll away, well-weathered pavement or a cornerstone. I have no answer in this plac...
Post a Comment
Read more