of fates and virtues

you draw the curtains
with the authority of parting a sea
and the light obeys you

that grey wool in my eyes
i blink clear with your largesse
of toast and muddy marmalade
brought in like a skull on a platter

set down with watchmaker hands
on the newest stitched cloth
snipped to exactness
by your relentless industry

such precision i assume you divine each rising
and memorise the combination to each vault of us

yet you must be hoping
what belief you still have in me
isn’t seduced by the wilderness i espouse
doesn’t flounder in an oddly comfortable dark

or do you give in and admit
this grown man’s no more the purse-snatching
delinquent you’re bent on changing
moving violator of conscience that quietens yours?

re-arrange the furniture as you will
three gilt chairs where the guilt bed lies
a hand-in-hand sunset in place of
my Francis Bacon portrait
a different view will give pause
but not revelations of certainty over doubt
what’s true is somewhere in the guesswork
between our door and window

face it
we are in the same room

24 thoughts on “of fates and virtues

  1. Welcome back dear Poet. Your creativity is at its most searingly personal – ‘oddly comfortable dark’. I read and feel I am somehow intruding on a dialogue in which one isn’t meant to eavesdrop. I want you to find balance, neither to be controlled nor a prisoner of conscience, to be in ‘the same room’. Happy.

  2. Brother John – Wonderful imagery and metaphors. I get the feeling that this is an internal dialogue between the rational and the wild (natural) side of a personality.

    such precision i assume you divine each rising
    and memorise the combination to each vault of us

    Both are contained in us as indicated by the concluding lines:

    what’s true is somewhere in the guesswork
    between our door and window

    face it
    we are in the same room

    Wonderful, thought provoking poem.

  3. The moment when the two Johns or whoever analyze the younger and the current one. I like it when your pen dances metaphorically it stirs what little gray matter I have hanging on at my age. The refreshing lines perfectly wonderful descriptors, “you draw the curtains with the
    authority of parting a sea and the light obeys you”. How perfectly delightful to my crusty old eyes John. Thank you for what could be insightful or purely metaphorical. Ever your friend, Jon Michael . PS: when a pen is about to stir beautiful lines in Singapore, it is yours.

  4. John, your beautiful poem made me think about fates and virtues. Some of my virtues have changed in the course of life. What would my fate be like if they haven’t? Different lives that never happened – they are still in me, in the same room.
    Thank you, and welcome back!
    Inese

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