deepundergroundpoetry.com
Love, a Little Less Lonely
In every heart there is a rope,
Kinder than the guillotine.
Her absence swings as an oil lamp, on
First fishing boat which sat on the harbour.
Old, rusty tankers anchor to the horizon.
Bottles break on jigsaw-pieced shores
Where tousled tides never reach:
Always leaving, never quite returning.
Truth is the simple ache,
We always knew.
Kinder than the guillotine.
Her absence swings as an oil lamp, on
First fishing boat which sat on the harbour.
Old, rusty tankers anchor to the horizon.
Bottles break on jigsaw-pieced shores
Where tousled tides never reach:
Always leaving, never quite returning.
Truth is the simple ache,
We always knew.
Published 16th Jun 2022
Author's Note
ERULGCT 149. Uma xx
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 5
reading list entries 5
comments 4
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The author encourages honest critique.
16th Jun 2022 9:55pm
A really lovely mix of natural calm and human violence here, expressing acute lament.
Appreciated. Funny how scribbles can evolve. On a TV drama soundtrack I misheard the opening line to a song. It transpired it was "heart" and not "rope." So my opening salvo became cemented.
18th Jun 2022 9:50pm
I put this on my list immediately after reading it because there was something that really got to me, but nothing I could comment on at the time. Some things have to sit and settle, ya know? This feels like such a deep acceptance of melancholy, understanding that the ache is inevitable, that partings are guaranteed one way or another, and we move forward anyway. "Always leaving, never quite returning" really struck me, because in some relationships, some partings, even when not permanent yet, we can lose something we'll never get back, even when coming back together. Leavings take a toll. Truly lovely, atmospheric piece, and so glad I caught this one.
18th Jun 2022 11:05pm
Many thanks PS and it really good to see you back. There's that Jean Rhys quote which I have often cited. "And then it became a part of me and I would miss it, if it ever left. I am talking of sadness."
Melancholy is the strangest bruise. It never really leaves. Not really. It can be viewed as self-indulgence, wallowing or a self-fulfilling prophecy. Or can be used as a creative impulse and positive emotion. Dunno really. As individuals we always seem to be leaving something, someone, somewhere. Fight or flight? How often do we take flight.....
Melancholy is the strangest bruise. It never really leaves. Not really. It can be viewed as self-indulgence, wallowing or a self-fulfilling prophecy. Or can be used as a creative impulse and positive emotion. Dunno really. As individuals we always seem to be leaving something, someone, somewhere. Fight or flight? How often do we take flight.....
