Between You And Me... Poem by Eric Gibson

Between you and me...
I always wanted a woman
who I could read poetry and
share my omniscient sense
of human connection with.
Some woman who would cry
my Christ-like tears with me
and rejoice the pains
and celebrate
and wax poetic of the jewels
of life.

I look at Najuwa and
think how easy she makes
me happy.
I realise now,
how pompous and
silly I once was.

Between you and me....
Walt Whitman's bottomless
zeal for the scent of leaves and
the clap of thunder is a myth.

Whitman was happy and
excited when her eyes
climbed up to his from below him
like some depraved servant
of sexual favors
while he invaded her mouth.

He felt ignited and alive,
just like me,
when she laughed at his jokes
with eyes of adoration and
cheeks of cherry-colored light.

Tell me, Walt;
Are you not disarmed
and frail in the tunnel
of her loving gaze?

Because,
between you and me....
I know you don't care
about the grass,
and the birds.

I know you don't pop and crackle
with childish fascination when
the sun rises.

When will you stop being the
simpleton bodhisattva of happiness
and embrace dereliction
like the rest of us? !

Because....
....between you and me....
I don't buy it.