Pages

Monday, August 24, 2015

SAILOR




Imaginary Garden With Real Toads














Chasing tail lights,
your dream in the rear-view mirror,
still disbelieving she isn't real
when you know you were there
the same as you are here.

Low buildings ramble
under the scimitar moon
as you murmur
sail on, sailor.

Recalling how you used to feel so awkward
inside your own skin
until the revelation
that you were the observer
and the observed.

And you try to hold onto that now
as you navigate the desperate grey streets,
wading into a maze of strange gazes,
knowing they don't have a clue
like when you
pored over some verse from a poet
you knew very little about
other than you'd both been married
to the same woman--
trying to gain some inkling
into what she might have seen in him

Laughter spills from open doorways
where music numbs
a thousand coexisting ills
 just as alone in a crowd
as you've ever been.

Reflecting on this life--
a fairy dust landscape
of mirage
and tricky illusion,
you feel so invisible
you could lean against a wall
and disappear,
like a moon getting sucked
into a black hole--
never again
having to face the sun.

12 comments:

  1. You capture something of what it feels like to be alone in a crowd, or sidelined, perhaps by choice.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Kerry. I only go along with the crowd when I'm caught right in the middle of it.

      Delete
  2. Wow, a fantastic write. I see that dream in the rear view mirror, and resonate with the lines about being the observer and the observed. Very cool write, Timo.

    ReplyDelete
  3. That third stanza just nails it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And I didn't even hit my thumb this time!

      Delete
  4. The observer and the observed, Tim. Nifty.
    __My wife often says: I can't go out like this, I look awful_!
    __I say: you look great to me, and when we're out... just look at those that you put to shame_!
    _m

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. We see ourselves differently than others do...sometimes that's good...sometimes not so!

      Delete
  5. that you were the observer and the observed... this poem has such an interesting feel to it!

    ReplyDelete
  6. scimitar moon-perfect. Being the observer is more rewarding for me.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You are right...who wants people staring at you all the time!

      Delete