I tend to think it takes some heartache or despair to inspire me to write a poem the way I used to. Tonight I just put myself here, turned off the music, and let the words find me. Here they are, right off the top of my head, making me think, maybe it’s not all that complicated.
You Lucky Fool
by Roger Darnell
Yes, you aligned songwriters
have much to offer me, all times of day…
and in the night, your words fill my voids, too,
so that my own thoughts drown in the din.
There is some effort required here
on my part to ride in to my own rescue,
where the willingness to ponder in silence
is what must pass: What have I to say to me?
You ask so I speak, to say what you know
and do not wish to hear: You lucky fool,
you timid coward, you have it good now,
but one false move and it all may disappear.
Night sweeps in and within that darkness,
nothing real comes to life except the
pillow, wet in the place the mouth fell open;
for hours you lie there, so wrecked and absent.
The dreams are so many distorted looks at
everyday scenes scrabbled oblong, and
waking up pulls everything back straight
for life’s daily grind. What else is there?
You ask so I answer, to think what you know
but do not wish to hear: You lucky fool,
you timid coward, you have it good now;
one false move and it all just might disappear.
Now, a girl and boy stand ready, filling
time and space with talent, will, character,
questions, visions… all hours of day and night.
Each is here, a work in progress, at home.
En route, us and them, we have this moment
to prepare and make our moves. We are
here for them, and them for us, and soon,
we all must decide: Shall we take… or make?
You ask so I offer, to share what you know
or may only wish to hear: You lucky fool,
you timid coward, you have it good now;
make any move you can – we all soon disappear.
(Copyright 2014 Roger Darnell, All Rights Reserved.)
