The Joy Of Unknowing
Ah! To unknow the sun
Exploding into molten gold
As it dances upon your hair.

Unknow your perfume
That lingers forever in the air.
Unknow the orchestra
Playing relentlessly in my heart.

Unknow your smile, your laugh
And the funny things you do
All the infectious parts of you.

Ah! To unknow the touch we nearly had
And the joy we imagined
Would fill our innocent lies one day.

Unknow the dream
And change it back into a mere thought
That was never afforded an existence
Except in the rantings of a /fu:l/

Ah! Ah! To unknow the fear
Of losing you
Unknow the futility
Of wanting to hold you near.

But, how can you unknow
Something you never really knew?
Or feel decimated by the loss
Of something that was never yours?

Oh! The fact of not knowing you
Became the only part of me I remember.
I remember knowing it would never be,
I think you also knew, didn’t you?

Oh! Oh! I realise we cannot go back
And unknow what we have seen
And been and become.

We cannot chip away
At the sculpture,
Which is our life.

Cannot take out the bits
We do not want to be anymore-
It is too late.

I am with you
And you with me
In this dream
For eternity.
(Gerry Aldridge ©2016)

Criticism is validating
Your love is a choke hold
A marriage committed to my compromise
Generic mending
Each strand of bronzed chunk, represented a vow you gave me
The scissors cold and bare, cutting it away from my body
Swept into the nearest waste facility  
I was invested until the end
Dying with you was never scary
I now degrade, picking scraps off picture frame edgings
Look at us so happy
Lusted objectifying could qualify as the new I do
Well, we didn't make it to 80 not even 32
Congratulations to your selfish needs buddy
I hope you finally find you
Here take this ring, it doesn't fit me

this place is full of monsters
and maggots
and blood-******* demons
and piece-by-piece soul stealers.
they are the thieves of love.
selfish and reckless,
their parasitic fingers take and take.
they drink the blood of their victims
then discard their empty bodies
like used paper cups.
the vampires walk among us
and they wear the faces of angels
to hide their fangs.

St. Catharines light in the afternoon: lead oxide, pink white, dry mud shadows.
They lay on her living room carpet and Anthony gloated over Milly
Her cotton nightgown, her long back, and round shoulders: proof at last.
"So this is gloating. It is better to gloat than to doubt. It took me a long time."

Her clean faded quilt brought from the balcony rail: it
Smells of clean laundry and cold air and the thrill of their power.
He’s proud to be the lover of a heroine,
And happy that he can see her this way.”

Picnic kisses tasting of smoked oysters and beer.
There were never friendly kisses of love before?
"Milly, I love hearing how you defied the adults."

He told Hansel and Gretel to her child, who had strep throat,
And told it again, knowing it would work,

Seeing the bookshelves, seeing her notebooks,
Knowing that he would have his life after all:

                      The mispronounced words of a solitary reader,
                       The red skirt on the chair, the gold necklace of coins.


                   Paul Anthony Hutchinson
www.paulanthonyhutchinson.com
Copyright Paul Anthony Hutchinson