Bat An Eyelid And All Else Is A Forgotten Anguish Poem by Mark Heathcote

Some joys are ready sent to be relinquished
Before our mind's eye is set on deceiving us
Here mysterious passages are walked daily,
Bat an eyelid and all else a forgotten anguish.
The fruit is eaten ripe but the cores left rotting
So you hang from a ceiling of a cave listening,
To your own hearts distant dissenting echo.
Dissident beatings; in its own lonesome, dwelling.
Some points of understanding aren't negated
As we search out alibis in each other's eyes
There's no concord between you and the floor
The ceiling is a conquest tightrope, not a nest.
Faith doesn't love any more than love is faith
Something is lost but ultimately, unexplained.
The invisible is as real as something audible
Intangible as an electric eel is to hold or ignore.
Distant memories want to claw hammer a door
But you the occupant isn't home anymore.
So without a tenant is love without a master
Like a cat without a saucer of milk or cream.