| tanya kingston (salehian |
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Reply with quote | #1 |
I WANT TO LEAVE AGAIN TODAY a poem by tanya kingston salehian
I want to leave again today….been wanting to leave a long time now.
my beating heart, take tremulous flight, away, away, and quite alone.
The box they buried him in is here, put me there too and close the lid. He was not born but lived in me, I dreamt him, tall and strong, my handsome boy. His hair dark and skin so white, the eyes are shining, black and bright.
He can do it all.
There is no box, nor burial too, just a note and where to go.
There was no money at all for him, I screamed aloud not bury him. I never saw
his little frame, too final for me , blue and cold.
He slipped away with out a breath. without goodbye, alone to death.
Losing, losing, when something’s lost there is no hope. No finding and no happy ending. Search and peer at all the boys, its this one here and that one there, but
in the end a drift, a glimpse that was my boy, that one there, where,! oh there.
My father too did quite the same, his wandering memories finding solace. A tree
remembered but not quite, a dim recollection of a brighter life. Of wine and love
and happy days, in France and Oxford, salad days, before the war. He fell asleep
quiet in his bed and he too, just slipped away. There was no more to be said.
I seem to not have quite the grip on life I ought to have. They slip away, while
I’m not there it seems. The lover too, his intense gaze, holds me chained, enthralled
and faint. Bitter tenderness was there, delight and oh such care. In the end though
be as may, he also had to slip away.
I want to leave again today. I woke up with distaste for life, this is not my place my hearth, my home, the people here with rags and bones, they mutter as they walk along, and beat the posts with mindless fingers. Talking to themselves, conversing to the wall. Wander down the dirty street, past acres like a bombed out site, where water gathers overnight and hopeful ducks come down to drink. The water, foul and darkish green. A semblance of some oversight that meant to make, a beauty spot of lake
I cross the street and miss the cars that rush straight past although they see the bars
of white that indicate a person might, attempt the hope of moving to the other side.
Sitting by the station steps, dirty and unshaven, a young man begs for money. Quite fit and able. What is the point I think again, I have nothing to give and anyway, I’m old and grey and what’s he thinking.
If I had a full account I would so love to share it out. To give my daughter’s homes
and things, to fly away and visit those who have also lost. To make it better and give
them all a happy ending. I want to leave again today…………………
tanya salehian
may. 2009. katoomba
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| | | Bernd |
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Reply with quote | #2 |
What's to be said when someone extends a hand in which they hold out their life for all to see ... only to cry, to laugh, to nod, and say 'yes'.
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