WHY AM I UNTRUE?

image

When I think constantly of you

How is it possible I am untrue?

This is how love shames me in the end:

Love belongs to the stranger, not the friend.

If I always think of you,

You are a friend, but a stranger, too,

And soon, strange, strange is what you are,

Not the sun I always see, but a mysterious star

That watches me, high, high above

Even when in the dull day I move.

But that star! That distant, looking you

Always looking to see if I’m untrue.

And I am! That’s what humans are!

So I say no to love! I say no to you, the sun, the star

Too beautiful, too strange, too far.

Advertisements

6 Comments

  1. Andrew said,

    June 30, 2015 at 12:43 am

  2. Andrew said,

    June 30, 2015 at 12:44 am

  3. Andrew said,

    June 30, 2015 at 12:47 am

  4. thomasbrady said,

    June 30, 2015 at 12:16 pm

    Thank you, Andrew.

    We have laid down a great poem. Your response, perfect.

  5. Andrew said,

    June 30, 2015 at 5:28 pm

    Yes – this poem is great.
    I like the disturbing astral paranoia it radiates.
    Mystery and strangeness rule the memory of the one we mistook for God.

    (Sorry some of the images came out so huge – is there a way to make them uniform?)

    • thomasbrady said,

      June 30, 2015 at 8:50 pm

      The sizes are fine…I like it…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: