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poetry by lou sid linesman - on life, love & politics
Saturday, March 18, 2006
No Strings
Oh Baby,
Don’t feel guilty...
Don’t feel angry with yourself, through me...
I’m not mad, I’m not hurt...not now...
These days I’ve learnt to regain balance...
Release that dense emotion almost instantly...
I just called to check you, Baby...
Just want to know that you’re all right...
Just want to help you slip back in the groove,
Just want to make you laugh and break the spell that’s petrified your heart,
Just want to hold you...but never stop you being free...
I wasn’t scared to make that contact...could you tell?
I wasn’t scared to fail,
I wasn’t even scared of you!...no more...at...all!
And I’m basically a mere and little shrew!...
But don’t worry, Baby...I’m not calling you again,
I won’t be fuelling-up your bitterness with any opportunity,
I’m not going to let you get your kicks from cutting me...
From cutting yourself off from care,
So later you can bathe in your self-suffering indulgent and self-agonising pain...
Or am I simply caught in one of your most wicked-minded schemes?!...
I wish, but I don’t think so...
Your buoyant humour’s gone and you’ve sunk deep...
Engulfed in that too dreadful fissure...that knightmare verse...of trouble...
So prove me wrong!...
Remember your prerogative your front your brass?!...
Your funky power’s gone...in real life you’re too afraid to crack your shell!
Your poetry’s your final mind of refuge...sad...all that currently remains...of you!
Your conformity’s the only shocking thing about you now!...
And I’ve shed that guilt which always used to leave me so unwell...
And do you wonder why?...
Because I’ve really been so happy...
To seek to make it good...to make you up...to try...
To send a message which does not demand that you reply...
No problem, Baby...especially when it’s you...
And here’s the why...
Five sick years’ recovering from that first arrest of Love,
Five hard years’ of being Human, being bad,
When I chose... when I turned my back on Love...just as you with conscience had,
Five more years’ it took to climb that convoluting strange ravine back up to Love,
Which I guess you had already struggled to ascend, but slipped when you met me...
And now I’m standing right there in that soft-upholstered room, at that cliff’s edge
Where we once kissed that first-last time...
Where we let each other go, lost touch, lost grip and fell...
But now I’m there by right, not through that glimpsing Eye of chance true Love,
And this time round I’m faced away from that sheer precipice
And headed to explore the higher plain,
And I want to go there linking arms with you...
Wow I’d be so proud...
If only you could pop that memory, that map to get back up here too...
I know you’d storm it with your stunning and electrifying style,
You’ve got to see...
You’ve gone right into my old world and been hard-frozen just like you found me
And I’ve gone into yours and been warmed up engaged by physical reality...
I’m astonished you’ve forgotten how it felt to be that girl you were...
(Your still no woman...not until you prove it!)
And that’s why I’m here and acting as your personal reminder...
Although I can’t afford to wait about!...
But I’ll leave a special trail...each day I’ll breathe the softest sigh for you alone to hear,
In case you find your way and gather that small courage to draw near...
Because you, you are the One,
You were...the most beautiful...the only...
Day...in my...life...without sun...
You showed me fiery flare, ambience and purity of vision, blazing light...
It’s guided me through deepest darkest night...
And you did it all glad-hearted, on that lovely mischievous whim...expecting no return...
Which I could never understand...
And which tormented every rigid and ungiving bone of mine...
Until today...
When finally I’ve got it...from your spoken word...that’s so well-turned...and so...full-on...so bad!...
(Shame it’s just pseudonymous big talk!)
And it’s as if the magic of Twelfth Night is ever lingering,
When you blew the dust from out my sorry soul but I could not respond...for fear...and I felt shrunk and small beside you...
Today...
When it’s nothing to gift back to you...but pleasure...
What you back then so playfully and with such joy entrusted me...
This...
The Truth...
Of...our...
Love!
© Lou Sid Linesman, 2006. All Rights Reserved.
