If Mr Grief Could Speak Poem by John Duffy

A lone voice whispers in the dark at 3 am.




I'll never kneel to pray no more





Because I won't idolise anyone this way anymore





I can't hold back my souvenirs of fears any longer





Though my tears still stain this grey uniform I dutifully wear





As I continuously look for a new sanctuary to rest





So my soul can repair





I've got to take all those heartfelt condemnations with me





For with you

I've smiled





Shouted and screamed in joy to last for a thousand years





Constantly pushed to live the illuminated man's hidden underground dream





But what I wouldn't do now





Just to be with you





I know I must neglect all those painful memories





And try to go on and find the resilience I need





To let you go free





Just like a midnight lantern





Filled with good wishes and introduced into a New Year's Eve





To step away and shut that badly worn door





And let my existence go on like Adam





Who once loved Lilith prior to Eve





Before they went outside the Greatest of All Gardens





And all his first love for her





He silently always grieved





Would we be better off if I had pulled all my barriers down





And let you in so totally and in all my hidden tributaries





Swim





Maybe

But I reckon we'll never know





So I'll let go of my claim with this





My final kiss under The Great In-Between's neverending mistletoe





But you may call down someday in the near future unknown





Like a rolling stone





In the falling rain or snow





For this painful love we once beautifully shared





Will keep us safe throughout the blinding of the heart





The silence of the mind





For this love we once experienced in the darkness beyond the light





In the greatest of schemes





Will go through a new phase of rediscovering





Rewriting our tragic love story like a modern-day





Fyodor Dostoevsky





For humanity is sometimes incredibly





And intensely in lust with all forms of suffering





And love in action is occasionally a brutal and tragic commodity





Beyond all forms of cognitive psychology





And only sometimes can be painted in words





For love in motion is like a beautiful boat sailing through poetry





In a wishful dreams





For true love of any kind is never low key as it seems





Copyright John Duffy