One Huge We [poem]
Sometimes questions come into my head
for which I have no easy answer and
from which I cannot run (though feet
move fast and life is like a blur of
clouds [sky overcast] they loom like
darkened shrouds of knowledge that
I’d rather never know [although to
dreaded places lately I must ghostly go]).
Can a leopard really change its
well-defined identifying antiquated
intricated spots for unicoated uniformly
single-coloured sully-free non-dots?
The chameleon adapts itself to changes
of environment to blend itself to every
range of strange and posed dismantlement.
So will it really swap and drop its multi-coated
ever-roted morphly moonly strategy for just
one clear extremely tidy overriding colour scheme?
A part of me (the one which — not of innocence
or widely-wanting grinnocence [a smiling mask
{as I can see it now} of wishful thinking rainful
rinsing diligence]) with cynicistic ancient hurtness
wonders with a hefty sigh if signal spots undot and
layer-player skins will rot or if I have to vie with
them until the day I die [idem].
In my dream the Leopard Woman soon becomes a Lady.
Lizard Lover sheds the skin which always made her
darling yes into a scalesome maybe.
So here I am still by your side — shaken boneless by the ride
but loving every part of you[us] returning to the start of you[us]
to fathom out the heart of you[us]. I love to fill the (w)hole
of you and you the [w]hole of me so we remain foreverly
(please) as only one huge we!
© 2011, Alan Morrison
The Naked Troubadour 