The Diver Who Would Not Swim

by Alastre Zidler

My beloved bring my son
And sit pressed against me,
Hold me fast should I try to
Slip out the door,
Or down the drain.
Chain me to a rock
Should the Kraken rise
To take this next offering

I search for
A new antagonist within you,
To paint in the image
Of the demons inside me,
That I might find safety in fear,
Comfort in the notion
That you would ruin me

Should I simply run and hide?
Will I crouch down in the corner,
Like a little boy, all alone with the
Doors closed, as
My mind wells with
The hungry dead?
When the doors should open
It is I who will come to you,
Starved and feral,
Flailing in mad hunger
When the feast you set for me
Sat growing cold
All night long
(…And I am supped on regret)

Will you leave me too, my love?
Underwater, sky above?
The chains around you weigh you down,
I will never let you drown.

And should I slip, where are your hands?
You can’t reach me from your land?
Don’t you know I’m here to stay?
You take my hand but push away!

My truest love, what have I done?
You’re the only, only one!
Darling, come rest in the sand
We’ll sit here until you can stand.


Posted on 10/24/2003
Copyright © 2022 Alastre Zidler

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Alison McKenzie on 07/09/04 at 04:42 PM

Speechless in awe.

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