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Our most prized-May 1995 adjusted on January 2013


distances...

distances…

This poem was inspired by the disadvantages of distances separating us from…

Our most prized
——————–

The need, the warmth
Living so far apart
Precious time wasted
Each preoccupied

With their lives
Working day in
Day out, slipping
Into the bed of

A satisfying day
Yet nostalgia
Seeping…
———

Stealing eventually
Into a few suitcases
Memories and laughter
Till it bursts so we

Will not go missing…
Wait, count the months,
Days… To cozen distance (1)
Bargain again

And pack a rod
Of love from
Our most prized…

————

(1)
coz•en
v. coz•ened, coz•en•ing, coz•ens
v.tr.
1. To mislead by means of a petty trick or fraud; deceive.
2. To persuade or induce to do something by cajoling or wheedling.
3. To obtain by deceit or persuasion.
v.intr.
To act deceitfully.
________________________________________
[Perhaps from Middle English cosin, fraud, trickery.]

The impracticality of distance February 1996 readjusted to a prose January 2013


Lido 2012 ©copyright2013owpp

Lido 2012
©copyright2013owpp

Those are writings from the 1990’s which I thought I’d never use due to my
lack of experience then, in writing but to my delight and surprise ( I do
surprise even myself! ) I got down to work on Sunday, took the core and changed
it totally using the words that cried out in attention and putting it in a prose
versus the article it was. I was astonished and

pleased at the result which shows, there is always a time for anything we write,
given we have patience and believe anything is possible with a drop of will 🙂

The impracticality of distance
———————————

One O’clock
All is silent
Each one
Long gone
In their own
Planet of dreams

My mind floats
To many ports
One of them yours.
I think how
Far away
You too are long gone

In your world
Your vision
Inhabiting one
So strange to me.
Doing those same things
Void of mystery.

Eventful or not
Working, unwinding
So simple, so alive
What life is all about.
Practical
And tumultuous.

The ink flows
On my pages
Engraving words
Buried deep
Silence surrounding
This cubicle of thoughts.

Trying to make sense
Of life, of my love
For you.
They are there
Fooling me
Appeasing you

Erasing the,
Impracticality
The impossibility
Of distance.
Secrets of the night,
Leaving the world

Of darkness
Drifting toward
Daylight waking
To sunshine
Bracing a day
With the stamina

Of a professional.
Cold sometimes
Suppressing it,
Wanting to bury
Under covers
Your ingenuity.

Recognizable
Routine
To the bare eyes
Yet different.
By the impracticality
Of distance.