Friday, 29 November 2024

The Unsaid Sea

 The Unsaid Sea


Down deep

A vast sea churns

Below the surface

Roiled by all the unsaid things

Between us. 


I have done my best

To contain and suppress,

To make space for more,

Bottling the excess,

Smuggling drops here and there

In tight verse. 


It’s dry

Where we stand

Unyielding, solid, dependable

But it’s bare. 

The cracks 

Only hairline fissures

Are still there

The urge

To rain blows

On the dusty earth

To smash this carapace

This protected space

To fall through 

With you

Into that place

Where the unsaid 

Finds an ear

Where we can truly be here:

That urge is building.


The Unsaid Sea

Simmers in the dark

But the tide is rising. 


© 2023 Mary Goodman


Thursday, 21 November 2024

Escape from the Matinée

Escape from the Matinée 

I have pondered at length, 
Sought to find
Out whether or not 
I possess the strength,
The resilience of mind 
To be with him.

It cannot last, you know. 
It ends in pain
Inevitably. 
Why seek out woe
Or try to detain 
What will come?

Flee from the Stalls
Before the lies
Before the curtain falls,
The light of day 
Harsh on the eyes
Before you lose.

Run!

It is not what I lose
But what I gain
From being with him
That is why I choose:
I will feel pain...
...
For him.