Petulant

[podcast]http://www.washthebowl.com/wp-content/uploads//2009/02/petulant.mp3[/podcast]

I fall upon the rivers edge,
snow cold cocoon enveloping me
frozen fingers writing in snow,
can’t erase the pain I feel,
can’t erase this mistake
in my life of mistakes,

ancient frozen upon the river,
no bridge to the other side,
no bridge to cross to you.
I see you standing there, your
heart black and blue. Blue
to red then to black turning
back to red as you turn away.

Rolling darkness wraps her arms
around my cold shivering body,
wondering aloud she asks
“where have you been?” Foolishly
I tell her of you, of happy, she
laughs at me for being happy,
even for just a moment.

You gave me wholeness those cold days
when I was alone.
like a child I wanted more, sticky fingers
grabbing before you were ready.
stamping my shoes on the floor
scuffing both, onto an irrevocable path.

Zen melting into dirty attachments,
a petulant boy guised as a man,
nothing between the lines to read,
it’s all there, non-Koan.

How deep can I go I ask her
through desert eyes,
“how long is your life” she asks,
then turns away.
A child acting with self-indulgence
selfishness foolishness,
now a man laying awash in tears,
remorse, futility.
the man seeing clearly awakes,
chilled to the bone upon
the river bank.

I’ll always be alone now that your gone.
My love was real, alas the petulant boy
guised as a man, was more real.

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