Tuesday, January 10, 2012

What no one can understand



We must not keep doing
this. The words spill slowly,
with my hand in your hair,
in some lost restaurant
sixty miles from nowhere.

We must not keep doing
such damage to ourselves,
and those we love. The lift
our souls gained at the start
has turned into a gift

we must not keep. Doing
anything together
now holds our life in thrall
to fear, muscles clenched for
the axe we know will fall.

We must not keep doing
this, dear friend. For freedom’s
found not in what we choose,
but rather in the good
we at the last refuse.


A monchielle, written for a friend in a long-distant cafe.
To share with friends at the dVerse Poet's Pub.

5 comments:

Buddah Moskowitz said...

This was perfectly written. This was me in an el Pollo Loco in Santa Monica, California in early June 2000.

This is so spot on, if you were here, I'd buy you a drink. - Mosk

Pat Hatt said...

A little refusal can go a long way, nice verse!

Brian Miller said...

mmm...nice wisdom in this...yes what we choose not to take is often as powerful as what we choose to...tight write...

Steve King said...

This is such a polished piece, so very intelligent and refined--and what a great wind up! Perfect exit lines. I enjoyed this

Mary B. Mansfield said...

Beautifully written!