Monday, October 25, 2010

on certain evenings

certain evenings bring fierce pain
just after sunset, and a little before total darkness
comes a strange feeling. often in the past
I thought it was a longing for familiar habits
or pure sentiment or just missing those that I truly miss.
but this nameless ceaseless emptiness is more
than mere longing or nostalgia. sometimes it comes as soon as
I hear a sad song played in a language that I do not
know. sometimes the way the traffic lights change
and reflect and burn in a restaurant window, you know that feeling?
the beautiful girl dining inside sitting opposite
a man oblivious of her beauty, the missed heartbeat of that moment,
you know what i am talking about?
the way the high street feral cat hides his anguish behind anger,
on the main street, that gives me endless pain too.
sometimes there is no reason in all this you see, you have gone
your way, and soon everything will be forgotten, you and me
and the cat and the beautiful girl. even smoking cigarettes
does not help, even one after the other. the calm of burning candles
does not kill the anguish of real or imagined pain.


Roxana said...

"My poem is an explosion,
a wild raggedness. Disharmony.
My poem doesn’t want to reach you
who by divine providence, divine will
are dead aesthetes, museum moths,
my poem is my face."

Srecko Kosovel

(i know what you are talking about, though the poet doesn't ask me)

Kubla Khan said...

Well Roxana , here I ask you!

Anonymous said...

lovely again, kubla. Thx for adding my blog. Steve

Roxana said...