Saturday, November 12, 2011

Weekend poem: Dennis Brutus

Dennis Brutus

And the riptides rip and tear
erode, devour
and unrest, questing, yeasts in my querying brain
and I beat on the fierce savaging knowledge
rampaging through my existence
accepting the knowledge, seeking design

For I am driftwood
in a life and place and time
thrown by some chance, perchance
to an occasional use
a rare half pleasure on a seldom chance

and I grate on the sand of being
of existence, circumstance
digging and dragging for a meaning
dragging through the dirt and debris
the refuse of existence
dragging through the diurnal treadmill of my life

and still I am diftwood.
Still the restlesnness, the journeyings, the quest,
the querying, the hungers and the lusts.

The road, too, diminishes:
one would see less if one tried:
it is what ageing is about -
if one gave it thought:
generally though, one is content
eyes fixed on the road
content to see what can be seen
unanxious to speculate
about a possible road -
the diminishing road

July 7 2008

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