even as adults
given two magnets
we will strive
to force
each matching pole
together
with all
that can be mustered

we learnt
from a young age
that this would not
be possible
and yet
despite this
we would still
push
and
push
until the tips
finally touched
only
to burst apart
as soon as
our grip
was relaxed

it seems we understood
but
would not accept

there is no point
in trying to force
a connection;
it cannot
and will not
last

i bought a chair
that i thought was
exactly
what i was looking for
exactly
what i needed

the style
           the shape
                        the colour
ergonomic perfection

that something so simple
could align with
my needs
my wants;
i was surprised
i admit
it caught me off guard

but in time
the comfort i thought
i had found
was found wanting
dissipated

adjustments were made
and support toyed with
plumped up
or reduced
as seemed necessary
only to achieve
further discomfort
and anger

perhaps this desire
(or desperation)
to find
an idea of perfection
dulled my senses
forced
what did not truly fit

i have now spent
more time
seated
upon the floor
considering a replacement;
unable to commit
to discarding
this imperfect throne

i have no confidence
in finding anything better
and will likely continue
second guessing myself
as i second guess myself

we are the cat
that is both
alive
       and
            dead
but this box
is too small
there is not room
in this state of flux

one way
or
another
a truth
must be established;
either
open the box
to see for certain
or accept
what you believe
could be true

bury the box
forget the alternative
move beyond
the internal
       eternal
dissonance

.
Someone is waiting behind an unlocked door,
peek around the frame and tell me what you saw.
I am a little bit too scared to take a look,
like turning a page in an old horror book.

You see it may be someone who likes me
and that is dangerous for stability.
The hands are motionless on a timeless clock,
it would be easier if they would just knock.

In theory there is nothing I want more
than someone waiting behind an unlocked door.
I've rehearsed this scene so many times before,
but here and now there is a storm at my core.

It ties up the insides like thick knotted hair,
the thought, the fear, that there is nobody there.
So the man in the corner whom most ignore
has someone waiting behind an unlocked door.

But the uncertainty has its own high cost,
as the door locks shut and the moment is lost.

© Pagan Paul (14/02/21)

A bare corridor
Death exits frowning
Gilding her indecision
Judases keening laments
Mangled notes offering pause
Quarantined rage simmers
Tasting untapped violence
With xeric yearning
Zestless

I circle the store at least three times, every time I go.
I can never make up my mind.
Usually Trader Joe will ask me if I'm OK,
Or if he can help me find anything.
Usually I'll lie and say I'm fine,
Squinting intently at the array of fresh greens
But today I asked him..

How can I decide which fruit is the sweetest?
Does it matter where it came from?

Does it matter if an onion is red, or yellow, or "sweet"
If they all will make me cry?

What's the difference between a fig and a date?
How come I can never find either of them?

If swiss chard is so good for you,
Why does it taste so bad going down?

Why do beans make you farty?
How is that a "magic fruit?"

Why is everyone blind to the lie
That carrots make your eyesight better?

Is it toe-may-toe or toe-mat-toe?
Poe-tay-toe or poe-tat-toe?
Does it matter?
Does any of this matter?

He replied, "Ma'am, my name isn't Joe. I don't know. I just work here.. and they definitely don't pay me enough for this."

So I left with an empty bag, and a heavy mind.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.



ሁለት መንገዶች
አረንጓዴ ቢጫማ ጫካ
ውስጥ ተሰንጥቀው፣
ተለያዩ ባላ ሰርተው፡፡

ቅር የሚያሰኝ ቢሆንም፣
በሁልቱም መንግደ ተጉዤ
አንድ መንገደኛ
ልሆን አልችልም፣
ስለዚህ ቀጥ ብዬ ቆምኩ፣
እንደዛ እንዳደረኩ፣
እስከምችለው ርቀት
ቋጥኙ እስከሚያሽቖለቁልበት
አንዱን መንገድ አማተርኩ፣
ከዚም ምናልባትም ያም
ደህና የሚመስለውን፣
መረጥኩ ሌላኛውን፣
አርንጓዴ ሳራማውን፣
መቀደስ መታሸት የሚሻውን!

ግና በሱም ላይ መረማመድ፣
አዛምዶታል ከዛኛው መንገድ!
የዛን ጠዋት ሁለቱም መንገዶች፣
ነበሩ የተነሰነሱባቸው
የቅጠል ቄጤማዎች፣ ያላወየቦቸው
ተጓዝ እግሮች፡፡

ዘመን በዘመን ከታጅበ በኋላ
በትዝታ ባቡር ይሔን
አጠንጥኜ ወደኋላ
አወሳለሁ
‹‹ሁለት መንገዶች
አረንጓዴ ቢጫማ ጫካ
ውስጥ ተሰንጥቀው፣
ተለያዩ ባላ ሰርተው!››

እናም መረጥኩ
እምብዛምያልተዘወተረውን
ለልዩነቱ፣ ያ ነው ሁሉም ምክኒያቱ!

(በሮበርት ፍሮስተ/ትርጉም ዓለም ኃይሉ ገ/ክርሰቶስ)