Saturday, 23 March 2013

Chagrin


The presenter uses the word 'chagrin'.
Describes the oranges in California.
An orchestra performs Peter Grimes.

Heavy traffic. Let loose at 2:30
I feel adrift but old habits die hard:
no desire to slip through the net.

No-one home.
Get out of these damn silly work clothes.

Watch a video clip of a Wilko talking
about his terminal cancer diagnosis:
how it makes him feel euphoric.
Important lesson in this.

Hear the voice of my neighbour,
a gentle, hobbit-like fellow
who lives in his garden.

Acres of space and time ahead of me.
Places to yawn into until I arrive again.

Exactly where I want to be.

11 comments:

  1. 死を目の当りにした人がこんなにかっこいいなんて。

    観ていて本当に涙がこみ上げてきた。

    最後までマシンガンの如く走り抜けてほしい。

    とても美しい人生落胆のために時間がない。

    ReplyDelete
  2. This poem has been working inside me all day, into the long day's closing. For "personal reasons" I suppose.

    "I am a feather for each wind that blows and the wind's blowing me this way now. But yet I still retain this marvelous feeling of freedom."

    "... a strange euphoria"

    Later maybe not so much, though.

    Very affecting poem, lifts off from the body, reflecting, again, certain wrenching passages of personal experience.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Perhaps what's so affecting is the verisimilitude in the simultaneous perception of mutually contradictory truths -- that there are acres of space and time left to each and every one of us; and that there aren't.

    The Japanese comment expands upon the curious reaction of a young Japanese fan who saw coolness in the barrel of the machine gun and in the mouth of the whiskey bottle -- where, at the same time, in the present case, a pathologist might recognize only the empirical bases of a terminal diagnosis.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I am grateful for the thoughts shared in this comment. The contradiction gives an edge to the day.

      Thank you, Tom. I send good thoughts your way.

      Delete
  4. I enjoyed this very much. not a stray word here, presented so that all events carry the same weight, which builds, informing what comes next. nicely done!

    ReplyDelete
  5. The last three lines - very lovely. Wonderful poem, Jonathan.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you WB. Your comment helps to thaw these cold spring blues.

      Delete
  6. ...no desire to slip through the net...

    mysterious, caught

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. But at least you are on the case.

      Thanks Susan.

      Delete

Pages

Morlock Oil

Morlock Oil
A new collection of stories available now . Click on image for details.

The Quest Of Great Celtic Mystery

The Quest Of Great Celtic Mystery
New Chapbook Available (email rockinahill@gmail.com for details)

Furrow

Furrow
Bunchgrass Press