METAPHOR BOX

From the Stray and Timeless Collection 

Hanging Off a Corner of Eternity *

THESE POEMS DON’T BELONG TO ME

(Work in progress © Alina Alens)

_______________________________

MANTLE BREACH WARNING !

_______________________________

We regret to inform you

that

the blade of cynicism, which has been deemed

blunt for decades in your case,

is now showing sharpening signs.

_______________________________

MANTLE BREACH INSTRUCTIONS

_______________________________

In the event of unpredictable accidents of fate,

when we regretfully inform you that the blade of cynicism,

the same that has been deemed blunt for decades of grace,

is showing signs of sharpening,

we highly recommend reading through

“The Incomplete Fantasy We Call Love.”

For your peace of heart.

_______________________________

_______________________________

1

_______________________________

 These poems don’t belong  to me

These poems don’t belong to me,

just as music does not belong to anyone,

just as love belongs to all of us,

just like life,

just like faith.

This

is

the part that streams forth

right under my eyes, yet

unrecognisable,

uniting a past and a present unknown,

foretelling a strange tomorrow,

if we ever get to it

_______________________

2

_______________________________

While I’m still here

I choose to be the hand that soothes the early hours of the morning or the afternoon,

when the air is thin, too thin for soothing, too thin, really, for almost anything…

Would you hate me then, or love me even more?

. . .

While I’m still here

I am the hand that shelters the white of your dreams and covers up the iris of your nightmares

when you sleep, when consciousness is not yet quite awake…

Would you hate me then, or love me even more?

. . .

While I’m still here

 

I am the hand that shares a tenderness that nobody requests,

when silence takes the place of spoken words, and speaking eyes make promises

too big to keep…

Would you hate me then, or love me even more?

. . .

While I’m still here

I’ll be the hand that winds the clock, that oils its wheels

and wipes the dust  off sails, so that your boat will keep on sailing safely

towards new shores, new promises and new tomorrows…

Would you hate me then, or love me even more?

. . .

While I am here

I could go on forever…

Still,

Would you hate this minute, or love me even more for it?

. . .

*All the posts on this blog, whether published online or already in print, are copyright protected.

This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License