Despair Thy Charm

 

Despair Thy Charm

 

There were tears before bedtime - as prophesied.

It did not give him any pleasure

to behold her blinking red eyes,

or later, his - in anger, sorrow or measure for measure –

 

and when the drummer in the band

stretched out hands

to the bassist

there were traces

of red – caught in-between – he confesses

saw sobbing tears tumble upon her breast  –

and is this the price of some such success.

 

Later, when the band assembled

to tune up, the violinist trembled

when breasting her sunny C major

and Adam ripped it out from his chest – let it be, let it be –

taking up arms against a troubled sea.

 

So, in extemporis, all five of them gladly play

catch up - perhaps in doing so, wanted to say

to these three, who do not see

I am the song so sing me

or here is the false face of futility –

because it will never, ever be enough.

 

Pave the roads

from Lands End to John O Groats

in evidence, surveys, spreadsheets fit to be ticked,

because it was Thor who was tricked

to take draughts from the Ocean’s horn

still the tides returned

ground and churned

this rock into a million, million grains of sand –

 

Despair thy charm,

that only can oftentimes win you to harm -

and there’s a chance that you might see

there may be an answer, let it be.