Poem 100: Abiding Agony Poem by Samer Madbak

No intimate!
These torments cannot pass
To sudden nullity,
They tarry there
Within that idle mass
Of blessed care…
I nurture their seeds
Towards an infinite
Of misery!
No! friend, I cannot cast my shroud,
Tear my weeds,
And bare my sorrows vestal
Before this sordid crowd
Of festal
Trumpery!
I cannot burn my cot of reeds,
And join the sheaves
Of glory hunters…
Step into the endless row
Of prigs and pompous punters,
Forsake my genial willow,
No! I can’t forgo
My bed of aspen leaves
My ashen pillow…
You err my friend!
These suff’rings must abide
'Til Nature’s end
And hold
To perpetuity,
Ling’ring deep inside,
For evermore,
Within this hapless mould
Of bitterness
I cultivate their core
Towards a timelessness
Of ecstasy!


Adelaide
June 6th 1993