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Shadow Boxing
by Richard VinceHad I not opened the window,
The unevenly passing traffic would not
Now be speaking to me.
Letters and numbers on registration plates
Are somehow heard, becoming words
That are not yet quite identifiable.
Only letters...but they make words.
This is why I ponder on yet
Another name, wondering if the letters
From which it is made should
Read as something else.
Perhaps I am merely making work
To occupy my idle mind; to renew
That fear that I never quite believe
To be irrational. Here, as one of
Half a million, surely I am safe?
Safer from myself, at least, for
I have listened to my limitations
As others spoke them to me;
Friends, speaking with love, not
Hate or bitterness.
It feels strange knowing that I have
Been at both ends of the tunnel;
Knowing I have disappointed simply
Because of how I was seen.
Even so, the guilt from being disappointed
Still shadows me, though the
Realisation of the paradox has
Allowed it to fade.
My other remorse has faded to
Almost nothing; it is only seen
When I am shone upon by
A brighter light than I deserve.
When I understand it, will I need
To fight it again?
09/07/2006 Posted on 09/08/2006
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Michelle Angelini on 09/08/06 at 10:16 PM Richard, I don't know how you do it, but you somehow manage to express things that are hidden deep in my poetic soul. This poem hits me in a place where I'm at right now - somewhat dark, but not completely hopeless. And yes, I've known that tunnel and the places you speak of. Fortunately, the tunnel has two openings.
~Chelle~ |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 09/16/06 at 03:39 PM Symbolism unique. Abstract with a philosophical twist. A sympathetic reverie of self, honest and straight forward. Universal in its implications I think. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 10/08/06 at 10:32 PM Just a note on 'deserving' - everything being relative et al, I guess it depends upon whom or what is the source of the light, and on whom or what it is shining upon. Self-image, as I'm sure you know, is dependent to a large extent upon the reactions of others, especially to our behaviours. So perhaps the answer to your question is...when you understand it, you will have no need to fight it - it is what it is. Living up to expectations - well, that's an entirely different matter, or maybe not :>
Well, however irrelevant that may or may not have been, the poem is absorbing - leaving enough unsaid to find the balance between clarity and obscurity. Idle mind, huh? |
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