if a tree falls in a forest…

if a tree falls in the forest

i shall not
have this conversation
this conversation
where
i tell you
that
you’ve spent more time
listening to lies
than
pursuing the truth
no
i shall
not
have this conversation
telling you that
your mantra
of perceived truth
is really
just a form
of white noise
designed
to block out
the obvious ambiguities
of the stories
you’ve heard
so
no i
shall not
have this
conversation
it will remain
a soliloquy
for
the whole nature
of
a conversation
is that
one
might
be heard
so
i shall not have
this
conversation
for to be
heard
would require
some enlightenment
on your part
and
well
i shall
not
have
this
conversation

an uncomfortable waiting period…

composite image cwmartin

when pain
is deep
into the bones
there is no
other thought
than death
the joy of
bright-eyed children
and
shared sympathies
are as empty
as the promises
made over
cheap wine
and
menthol cigarettes
in a conference bar
far from home
and family
where vacant blue eyes
attempt to refocus
on the conversation
and the reason
for it in the first place
just as you try now
to refocus on life
but the pain
the pain
stops each refrain
of the song
of life

a practiced conversation…

i keep having
this conversation
with myself
that won’t
come true
where i tell
you
what really happened
and
what lies
have been told
and
you
believe me
that’s
why
i know
it won’t
come
true

the conversation…

 

Photograph by CWMartin

between words
she told me
a different story
the one
i wasn’t
supposed to hear
because
it would
hurt me too much
but
not as much
as her lack
of faith
in me

During the next few days, I will be on holiday…yes again…so I will be posting very few comments on your blogs…however I shall continue to post new poems here and hope that you will enjoy them.  Until then, cheers!

valentine’s day wish…

ooh… honey
i wish i was
one of those channeling folks
you know
that spiritualism thing
where i could have a civil conversation
with someone to help me write a love poem
but without that voodoo trance thing
lord knows i see that enough on sunday
but honey i would love that automatic writing
from someone like browning
or that mary shelly woman
to help me say
all the things you mean to me
that kind of materialization wouldn’t upset me
one little bit
just words of love flowing from my pen
but as you know
that ain’t gonna happen
so here’s your box of chocolates
same as last year
not the gift but the giver
oh…and i’m sorry bout the missing piece
but you know
how i love
chocolate covered
cherries

 

The above poem grew out of a question posed by Mirella . Vist her blog!