Poem of Despair

I love you

With all the sixty years

Of my life,

With my hair graying fast.



I love you

With a face on which

Each morning

I discover new lines

Around the eyes and the mouth,

With a body that can still arouse desire

But has no time anymore

To bear you sons.



I love you

With all my womanhood,

With the memories

Of the life past

And a little of the future left.



I love you

With awareness,

And a smile

Solveig’s Song

Woman’s life is like a dinner

Cooked and cooled,

While waiting for her man,

Then heated again several times

Till he finally comes home,

But the dinner is ruined

Like her mood.



My mood is ranging

From joy and high expectations

To sadness and disappointment

Till it’s dead when you reach me

In our disintegrating home

That is my life,

My life of a woman.



No, we will never write together.

I will write (it is a lonely business)

And you will be somewhere else

Working overtime, striving for excellence.



Your love for me will be sublimated

Into love for all people,

For the whole humankind,

For posterity.



I could have been loved

Here and now,

An ordinary woman loved

By an ordinary man.

But I am aglow with love

For you, here and now,

And you are too busy to recognize it.



I will have to be loved

By someone else, an ordinary man,

Not a genius or an ambitious man,

Idealist and a dreamer,

Who wants to touch the world.



Loved not by God or Christ, no,

Just an ordinary, simple, loving man

Who needs me and wants me

Here and now, not in eternity;

Who may even love me

For a limited time only,

But who, like me, believes

That maybe, just maybe,

We can touch the whole humanity

And love eternally

By loving just one woman.

Stuffed Animal

A stuffed animal

Cute and soft and cuddly

But with no heart to love me,

No brains to dream of me,

No soul to connect with mine.



When I am lonely beyond words

I can sleep with you

And you’ll feel soft and yielding

And almost mine.

You will feel nothing afterwards,

No need to call, drop by,

Or send flowers.



You are a stuffed animal,

And I - a human.



The stuffed animal industry

Is growing

For stuffed animals are no more

Children’s toys.



They are our pets, our partners.

They offer so much

And ask so little in return.



Soon,

There will be one stuffed animal

For each human.

The Fall

Under your own weight

Downwards

Into the dark abysses

Of your own depths

Irresistible

Timeless

Condensed into oblivion

Falling



Into a milky mist of

Awakening.

THE MESSAGE

This is my message

to you:



Beware of this

Blessing -

Of this damnation



My love

The Unborn Baby

I loved that baby

And it loved us too.

I never felt sick

Like other women.

Tiny, tiny little flame

Warmed me from within.

People hurried around me

And everything was

As before

Only I knew the difference.

A smile flooded within me

And I could have been happy.



I should have loved that baby more

For it loved us too.

And when I decided

That it should die unborn,

It left gently, silently,

As if smiling

As always leave us those

Who understand.



Now

I know what I have done.

Empty and miserable

I live on.

TO BUTTERSCOTCH

My cocker spaniel puppy,

Born April 1985-Died June 3, 1991



For all the days

Filled with your faithful love

For all the patient waiting

For me to come home;

For your gentle touch

And understanding;

For all the times when I was too busy

To notice your big, dark, loving eyes

Following me around;

For your protective watch

In front of my door

Although already tired and dying;

For all my lonely, sleepless nights

When at least I could hear

Your breathing

In your corner downstairs;

For all your hurt of loving someone

Who did not quite understand

Your devotion

Nor could respond on your level;

For teaching me how to love

Unconditionally,

I thank you.

And beg you

Forgive me.



May your great soul

Confined in a small, frail body

Now released for an eternity

To trail in glory of the infinite,

Find a more deserving

Object of love.



Your whole life,

From a tiny crying baby-pup

Severed from your mother

And given to me,

You have played

and fulfilled your role

while I failed mine.

Too Late

I loved you

You were gentle.



I was gentle too.

My gentleness meant:

I love you.



But

You didn’t love me.



Now I know

Your gentleness meant

Forgive me.

Waiting

A beach, I lie,

Things told about you

Like the waves

Wash me



In doubt,

For the same words we use

For lies and for truth

-whom should I trust

reason or my heart-



While searching for truth

I don’t know

Whether to hate

Or love you.

War and Peace

Around me turbulence,

Confusion, hate, and violence.



In the still center

Of that maelstrom -

I am alone.



No turbulence, no confusion,

No hate in my heart,

Just sadness and a question:

Why?



Why can’t those murdering hands

Caress babies’ curly hair,

Play the violin?

Create beauty?



In the middle

Of turbulence and confusion,

Let me be quietly wise

Like the trees,

Ageless like the rivers and mountains,

Utterly nonviolent

Like the flowers.