Two-Thirteen A. M. Poem by r james sterzinger

from you from her
and her and her

my survival now consists
of disentangling myself
from any meaningful constructs
from love from the thought of love
from pearls earrings smiles
hair and hope

the thing that drives this romantic
is the thing that drives directly
to the past. and what is the past?
isolation.

now I stare back at you
the collected you's
wanting nothing
nothing that entangles me in love

I am a star without an orbit
a moon alone
darkness for the sake of darkness.

that will cause me someday
to burn out to snuff out my own light
to incinerate what was and could have been

it is the way it was destined for me
preordained before time
my time what
a glorious waste it will have been

most poet's are asked when they got their
poetic voice. 'never had one'
I just want to find my voice
but at fifty-three it's a little late
for all that

so when I am dead
my ghost will be trying to find me
trying to hone my craft
my final judgment will be me
much like Peter, cursing and swearing
'I don't know the man! '
27/04/09