Elephant

Large in its grotesque dark silence
… it waits in the room
My attempts to get away …
trapped under sandbags of futility…
Fleeing from it an exercise of the impossible
In silence my fate resigned
For it follows me you see

Even escaping the confines
Of the suffocating...
shrinking walls of my prison
I can count on it to …
remain two steps behind

Stealing away in my shadow
It follows … faithfully …. no …
spitefully … in it’s malice its bound to me
and me to it

And turning around …
almost in recognition of a familiar face
And see nothing …
an empty nothingness protruding from the silence
a familiar entity …
an ominous presence
Yet I do recognize it ...
before the need to embark
on a journey of painful recollection …
I know
… It’s the elephant in the room

It says nothing …
expects nothing to be said in return
It just waits …
patiently .. reminding me …
constantly reminding me

WHAT DO YOU WANT? …
WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO DO?
Say something …
say anything .. please
… dear jesus
I feel my sobs choke halfway up my throat

Will your resolve weaken
Now that your quest is successful
now that we are alone
Just you and me

No …
Now that I am alone
You see … You don’t count
For its solitude you seek
Its solitude you impose
… On me
And you have become
… my self imposed warden

Oh love of my life
Light of my roadway
You are but a memory
In the darkness that envelops me
And as the night of my existence
... embraces me
I await the breaking dawn that never comes

Had we met sooner
Before I was bound to
This entity
Of sorrow and painful regret
Lurking in the shadows
It sits
And waits
It’s waiting still

Waiting for me to finish my writing
To take the last gulp
Of this bitter cup of heartache
And in its predictability
… It offers me a refill


Copyright Johannes Cloete 2009
All rights reserved

My Gift, My Sacrifice

As I watched the crimson colored clouds bidding the dying sun farewell, my disquieting thoughts prevailed. Of light and darkness … harmony and discord … beauty and fear … freedom and entrapment.

I was thinking about you tonight. And I was thinking about my gift … My sad sweet gift, to shine light upon darkness and wash away gloom … the only limitation was its being ineffective on you my dearest. For against your deep sorrow it had no use. So I hid it … buried it. For the perversity of it was a constant reminder of my sacrifice. In graceless mutiny misrepresenting goodness I dwelt, until it was impossible to continue.

The shiny skies were swimming now in the moonlit expanse. As ray lit clouds gleamed glory, yet highlighting a dead spot where the light lay spent to darkness. How this serene landscape was being threatened by thoughts of bitter self reproaches as I dealt them silently.

My love, how fleeting our serenity was? … under constant threat by tormented reality … saturated by sadness. Was I beginning to lose my mind in the depths of your despair? Frail limitation prevented me from being your companion on your journey through hell. In this I failed you. By cowardice I was distanced … whisked away to the light … away from suffocating darkness.

And how I abandoned you in the darkness of your prison … please forgive me. Was not the warmth of my love for you enough … enough to melt the ice from your heart? How can I blame you, when it’s me I can’t forgive?

You are my greatest sacrifice … for my gift I can no longer hide.

Sadness

Would that I were a dry well, and that the people tossed stones into me, for that would be easier than to be a spring of flowing water that the thirsty pass by, and from which they avoid drinking. – Kahlil Gibran (January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931)

A deep sadness has taken my heart ransom. There is no price to pay for its release, for the kidnapper has no demands, other than to inflict pain. There are days when it seems that I will certainly drown in this immeasurable well of agony. How has this beautiful sad sweet life come to this? I keep asking myself rhetorically, hungrily awaiting an answer. My mind continually reasons around in perfect circles, as minds often do, only producing more questions, and no answers. No approach seems to have much success and I abandon all hope of understanding. Answers are as evasive as peace and closure.

I want to run naked shouting at the top of my lungs crying laughing sobbing … immersed in pain … enveloped by sad heartbroken emptiness … where I fall I wish to remain … for the dust to cover me, hide me, comfort me. Instead I willingly consume this poison in small benign meticulous dosages; its thoughts … memories … sorrow … happiness ... pain. I’m looking at this strangely familiar face in the mirror, it still looks pleasant although its eyes reveals perseverance turned weak; its mouth is silent while my heart is screaming.

It’s over and impossible to save. My soul is hollow. I am surrounded by silent passersby, a silent nightmare where nobody speaks. I’m offering sand deliveries in the middle of the Sahara, trapped on this lonely island where hopes and dreams turn into ashes, and illusions are dashed into broken mirrors.