Poem: It Is A Lie to Say That Is The Only Thing I Want

It Is A Lie to Say That Is The Only Thing I Want

but it is the only thing I want from you,
the only thing that I want that can make this better.
You ruined it, and I want it fixed, and I know,
I know that is not an option any longer:
too much has been done, too much
cannot be changed now.  It is a different world.
But if you ask me what I want,
I still only have one answer for you,
I still can name nothing else
that will bring redemption
or make it at all better.
You did as you chose,
even though it was all clear.
In truth, I wonder if knowing
it would do so much harm
wasn't part of why 
you found it necessary.
You have said things before
that make me think
that is more true
than you wish to admit,
but still you want forgiveness.
I want to forgive you,
but for that to be possible,
you must find a way.
I do not know
that their are not ways
besides what I have named.
I do not know that the only thing
that will ever make it right
is for it to go back.  I name that
as the only thing because
it is what I know, is what I need
and want.  Maybe those needs
can be met in other ways,
maybe you can change this
in other ways.  I do not know.
You have done nothing
that reflects an understanding
of what would be needed.
You only tell me again
you want to be forgiven
and are sorry
and wish you could take it back.
Find a way, then.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poem: Neighborhood Inhabitants

Neighborhood Inhabitants There was a fox once, and another time, otters, and now a peacock that we think got lost during one of the storms. She stays down on the other end of the street, though, does not visit us. We have a racoon family that stays in our tree some nights, and there is a baby lizard, a brown basilisk, who we have seen several times. It is not supposed to be here, is invasive and troublesome to the local ecosystem, as are the duck.  I hear there are giant snails now who eat stucco or concrete or something of that sort. I have not seen one, though, I just heard they are here and big as my fist.
Read more

A Writer's Notebook, One-Thousand-Eight-Hundred-And-Seventy-Three

I am still finding it difficult to get back to a more productive work schedule at the moment.  In part, I am sure it is that I gave myself permission to slack off a bit, and it is difficult to walk that back, especially because I am still writing and being productive, even if not to the same degree. I know it would be good to get back to doing more writing, but I also know that I am still meeting my core obligations, even if at a more minimal level.  Really, I just need to make the choice and force myself to stick to it.  To that end, I am planning to at least get back to work on my longer projects again tomorrow, even if I don't increase the poetry output right away.
Read more

A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-One-Hundred-And-Thirty-Three

I received my acceptance to attend workshop at the Palm Beach Poetry Festival next year and am very excited to be working with Matthew Olzmann, a poet whose work I have admired for some time.  He has a rare capacity for being simultaneously absurd and serious in ways that are hysterical, but with devastating insights underneath.  I feel quite fortunate to have the PBPF, and can say, honestly, that each workshop I have attended there has been incredible.  As a person who has taken many workshops in my life, and who often finds them wanting, I am always astounded at the caliber of the classes at the festival, both in the instruction and in the community of poets I have encountered.  I only wish it could be more than just one week out of the year.
Read more