Discords Poem by Charl JF Cilliers

(I) - SHELTERING

In the air clouds gather.
We are caught
out in the open. Unprepared.
We move together, your hand
in mine – joy walks the thin
dividing line.
We cannot outrun
the absence of sun.
Nor in the poem seek shelter
under an overhang of words.


(II) - A CERTAIN SILENCE OF MUSIC

The music gathers up like evening light.
The mechanical gestures start
as two figures begin moving in tight
co-ordinates of constricted hearts.
Smiles timed as beats of music
overshadow words.
Quick-slow glides into slow-quick:
movement is not disturbed.
The music stops. Now I must see
you in a mood
other than music: if only words could
have some semblance of a melody.
You stare at me, start to walk away.
Words are not something we can play.


(III) - SHAPE IN THE WORD

My dear, my dear
it once appeared
words could restore
what had been taken
what was erased
could be retraced,
I could pursue
what I’d forsaken.
But with these words
your shape grew blurred,
sun turned to shade,
dark echo-shaken.
You are, my love
- all this has proved -
by words removed,
not overtaken.


(IV) - WORDS
She lingers here, immutable, defined,
a shape of sameness echoing
those moving changes that inclined
me to these measures of misunderstanding.