Monday, January 11, 2010

For Lovers and No Others

Peter McWilliams is an old hippie-poet I discovered through my friend and (cynics, close your eyes) soul-mate, Cassandra. In college she introduced me to this crazy man's work, and every time I read him I cry and laugh because he writes my inner sentiments so perfectly...

Here are just a few I wanted to share:

I don't know if love conquers all.
I do know it conquers me with alarming regularity.
Oh this one is going to hurt.
I am falling faster than I said I would
or thought I could.
And you aren't helping any.
You're so comforting and creative and beautiful and full filling.
I am falling.
I will flap my arms and pretend to be flying.
Help Me!
Catch me with your smile.

Hold on to your hopes my friend.
Squeeze them in your tepid clammy hand
until blood runs from them and trickles onto the floor.
But what if your dreams are made of clay or cotton candy
or gossamer wings?
What can I tell you to do with them then?
Well, whatever they're made of and whatever you do,
don't offer these dreams to anybody.
Because I offered mine to somebody (you) once
and that somebody (you)
turned them into rocks and threw them back at me
from behind their (your) wall.
And I hope if this ever happens to you,
you will write a better poem about it than I just have.
Why must I always fall for chicken shits
on ego trips?
I cannot love half assed.
I must love well and intently and creatively
or the forces within me turn back upon themselves
and explode....boom.
Do you want love
or do you want someone to drive the
loneliness from your life?
Do you want me
or would anyone do?
Do you want love in return
or just to respond?
I was not put on this earth
to test your reflexes.
Excuse me.
I am currectly afflicted with the world's number one crippler.
Commonly refered to in non-medical circles as
Any spare comfort you have to give would be most appreciated,
although my ability to recieve may be temporarily impaired.
Thank you.

-Peter McWilliams

No comments:

Post a Comment