Just to think how close we came to ill repute
by signing off our names, to hold heavy hands
in the long corridors of the magistrate’s court;
or to have the weaker of the two sold to the vicar,
and forced to live on just the scrawl of the one.
I might have come to think that this was ideal,
had its idea not barely missed my crotch with its
club-like foot; forcing me to hobble out my days
as half a person, with just one leg to stand on,
and the other’s foot fed firmly to the grave.
What would they have thought if we’d returned
locked at the finger? A love skilfully performed
on its way to the cemetery, because it is less
than a lifetime between the ribbon on the bonnet
And the hearse moving slowly and more punctual.
You have incredible talent as a poet! ! This poem not only tells a short story, but also portrays a very deep thought process! Hugs, Dee
God this is deep! ! I like this a lot, is it perhaps about a very nearly divorce? Or is that too obvious? ? ! ! Or perhaps that wee bit of cynicism regarding whether any two people should live their lives out til their dying days.... Hmm... a most introspective piece methinks. Good write Stug. HG: -) xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Re-reading this only makes the poem stronger. There are some really deep lines in here, a most poignant write. I especially like the last stanza, as though it were written by one of the great classics, the bonnet line gives it a timeliness not known in our lifetime. Great poem from a great poet, you are hugely underrated Mr Jordan! HG: -) xx