Poetry (77)

Hello Escritori,

This is an already much darker poem than last week which was a male speaker, hopefully entering his marriage and wishing for his wife’s affection.

This week, a spot of imagined adultery for you… so much so that I deliberated cynically calling this poem “The Trade-Off” but this was another one of those poems which had the room to be performed both sympathetically  and in the tones of a fatale or anti-hero.

I’d love to hear what you think about this; and where your sympathies lie by the end of it.

heart

Infidelity

I love you never more

Than when we are parting.

The kissing

And general affection

Doled out at these events

Is only done

With such aplomb

Because it’s what others expect.

 

We are such a rarefied coterie,

In our little set, aren’t we?

That the merest whiff of avouterie

Would probably be more expected of you

Than me.

 

Culturally –

I would be expected to mask my distress

Nobly, while you visited your mistress

And I was tasked with holding

The shuttle maintaining the tapestry

Of our life; a clandestine Penelope.

Unravelling from the inside…

 

I wanted more from you

When I made this

Tender investment.

Having me to hold

Has made you reticent.

 

I love you never more

Than when we are parting.

Because it means that for a while

You are gone.

There’s no need to prostitute my smile

To anyone.

Isn’t it funny, linguistically,

That you can both “fall”

In love and into infidelity?

But falling would be careless of me.

 

Compelled by my desire for someone so un-you

When you discover how I was ambushed

You’ll understand

That I didn’t fall

I was pushed.

 

And thereby an instinctual love

Can sometimes be most true,

It awakens a far more honest

Hunger inside of you.

 

 

So after I was pushed

past my own comprehension.

Being borne along

By the momentum

Was all that I could do.

 

(© Copyright Pola Negri, 15/02/2017.)

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Poetry (77)

  1. Very nice. Really makes you wonder at the way people stay together, even when there’s no real love between them, and they only like them when they’re leaving. I was actually just thinking about that the other day, why people even bother getting together at all. Lord Henry probably said it best in THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY. Sort of like you said in the poem, when “instinctual love is most true.” Lord Henry said it wasn’t who you loved, but simply the repetition of the act of love that was exciting. But at the same time, he also said he once wore violets for a whole season in remembrance of a past romance. Hmmm.

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  2. Long time no C!

    Thanks for commenting! Ah… yes. Oh dear, you were having a bit of a moment eh? There are some lovely tear-inducing passages in Mark Twain’s “The Diary of Adam and Eve” that might posit a more eloquent emotional defence as to’ why people bother’.

    Cheer up dear! And yes, that’s quite a nice detail, the innate contradiction of it is very human in its wounded hypocrisy. Good realism cheat. 🙂 ~ P ~

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