John Tansey Poems
|202.||The Stillborn Poet Or What Never Was...||12/5/2008|
|203.||Marriage...A Tragedy In Two Acts||3/22/2007|
|205.||Childhood....For My Sons, Wherever They Are, I Don'T Know||6/29/2007|
|206.||Broken...Very Short, Terse Poem||10/19/2007|
|207.||Reminiscing On Childhood…||1/13/2009|
|208.||When The Universe Collapses||9/30/2006|
|209.||The Abyss Of The Poem....||9/25/2006|
|210.||A Whittle Of Words...||11/12/2008|
|211.||Letting Go......To Be, Or Not To Be?||9/6/2006|
|214.||My Mother...Victimized With Dementia||6/30/2007|
|215.||A Tragedy In Two Acts.....The Slow Death Of A Marriage||12/28/2006|
|216.||A Love Poem For Anyone...||3/29/2008|
A Love Poem For Anyone...
For you, the hapless peruser,
who happens to thumb upon this page,
along a dusty shelf of books.
Was not haphazard at all;
For the page found your thumb
as it was fated to be,
as the effect finds the cause
and the cause finds you.
the heart bleeding reader.
If you would these words for you
then will it so.
for the subjective was never anyone
but the objective was always you,
the sensual stranger,
the romanticizing, lusty lover
who never turned my corner.
I am a torn photo album of memories,
Whose pictures, strewn out of order,
And chronological date
Lay about the floor in a collage.
A serial killer of images.
I lie in a heap,
Here, among the snapshots of the past,
Where I exist the best.