my hidden cambridge lies within

i recently visited cambridge; these poems are really a series of thoughts that all happened while i was sitting on the banks of the cam river. actually, that's not entirely true; the second poem was written on the train from ely to cambridge. i found it an amazing place to write - it might not seem it, but those few days gave me a very crystal idea of my thoughts. thoughts of thoughts i suppose. the second poem also steals its form from a poem i wrote a while ago called skin on skin. though i suppose because no one reads this except nothing, it doesn't matter if i'm self-referencing.

Oh to be different
of world and time
to be marked not
by the brush that reminds me
I am not good enough
There, drifting away
buried beneath the slowly
ambling river
Departs who I was to be
Adrift! my cultivated plans
Afloat for redemption
and in torrid understanding
I cling to my
effervescent sorrow
straining in me
desperate to claw bacl
what-who-whichever
slipped beneath the surfaced
and dreamed away.

I am haunted by my dreams
not by darkness or fright
nor black souls or death from high places
but by my happiness
that lives so freely there
outside my waking hours
so merry and free while I slumber
[which flees as the pale dawn approaches]
withdrawn, caged, elusive
while my eyes see

A slow warmth dawns upon my back
as the cold chatters at my fingertips
a creeping thirst
beckons me to leave
why can I not act?
which dart missed the bullseye
and left me with nothing
but the capability to put
in words
what I cannot [say] show.

You are cruel, you, they, why
give me the awareness
of what I'm doing
so I cannot do it
then briskly come
take my words as well
so that I sit again
with warm to my back
straight backed
freezing
and mute once more
You, in some will, in the form of a dog
give me a moment's respite
from which I can turn
and breathe
only to return
to find the words gone
you are so cruel.

(Cambridge, 27 Oct 2008)

Inside me broods a longing; low
and restless in my stomach, no
I shall not lose my steely nerve

and though appearances must be kept
and rules regarded, desires; slept
I know not what I should not do

and circle round each other, we
in courtly dane, respectfully
decline to take that final step

Though perfect and desirable; he
does not make word nor come at me
and I, in gutless wonder, stand

and though the possibility
is there, no strings, is boundless, free
somehow it shan't be overcome

and though I yearn each time he leans
to speak to me, I know it means
I cannot step; I cannot break

Our eyes have met in brief and then
for fear of finding 'it,' we bend
and dance around the rules again

so when I go; will he remember me?
or when I move; resigned, shall he
be someone that I cannot know?

as different lives breed different fates
are we just two who shall not wait
and go instead with luck and chance?

and there but for the grace go I
but I alone, and wondering; why,
how life would be if I'd taken a chance.

(ely-cambridge, 28th oct 2008)

so...there they are. for chris, my lovely host in cambridge, who i think is just perfect :)