a lyric from Plaisir D’Amour (1),
these singed edged memories,
the grievous tingling tinge of
lost love,
last a lifetime,
can reappear symptomatically,
with crystalline purity,
for longer then any ejaculatory
momentary spasmodic instant
joyous vibes of a hallelujah salutation
Grief, Why It Even Can:
erode away the smooth
s skin casing of years of
effective affection,
a long term construction project
of a million individual additions
*why then
is pain so long lived,
grief never brief,
but deep rooted,
and pleasing data
so easily
overlooked, pushed away by the*
“sharp edge of a short knife?”
why
does the low, slow beat of a sad song
bear down,
demands endless woeful
exhalation&repetition,
and
reversus,
the celebration tuning of a happy
days are here again,
an us, a wee-two-too~together,
always hummable but not
overly memorable?
I posit no solution
but whenever I think of
human
it is of the soft tissues outlining
our long bruised wounds of suffering,
that rise up
from deepest within
flooding the plains
of our thin~skinned senses
colliding and collectively
rendering us imbolized
do you have an answer?
cheap confess
do not know
no answer
but believe now
it is a
seasoned characteristic
that is genetic,
the sum of thousands of years of
the harsh
struggling of lives hard worked
where the life balance
is ar best a sometime thing,
*and the really real is
grief that lasts a lifetime*
Oct 4, 2024
Oct 4, 2024 at 8:13 AM UTC
a lyric from Plaisir D’Amour (1),
these singed edged memories,
the grievous tingling tinge of
lost love,
last a lifetime,
can reappear symptomatically,
with crystalline purity,
for longer then any ejaculatory
momentary spasmodic instant
joyous vibes of a hallelujah salutation
Grief, Why It Even Can:
erode away the smooth
s skin casing of years of
effective affection,
a long term construction project
of a million individual additions
*why then
is pain so long lived,
grief never brief,
but deep rooted,
and pleasing data
so easily
overlooked, pushed away by the*
“sharp edge of a short knife?”
why
does the low, slow beat of a sad song
bear down,
demands endless woeful
exhalation&repetition,
and
reversus,
the celebration tuning of a happy
days are here again,
an us, a wee-two-too~together,
always hummable but not
overly memorable?
I posit no solution
but whenever I think of
human
it is of the soft tissues outlining
our long bruised wounds of suffering,
that rise up
from deepest within
flooding the plains
of our thin~skinned senses
colliding and collectively
rendering us imbolized
do you have an answer?
cheap confess
do not know
no answer
but believe now
it is a
seasoned characteristic
that is genetic,
the sum of thousands of years of
the harsh
struggling of lives hard worked
where the life balance
is ar best a sometime thing,
*and the really real is
grief that lasts a lifetime*
(1) https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4884793/plaisir-damour/
