And There's Nothing Left To Say, And There's Nothing Left To Do, But Keep In Mind, From Time To Time, I'll Always Think The World Of You

--"Camden Town Rain", Mary Lou Lord

I wasn't planning on writing a poem today, but I had a good idea for one on the way home from the movies. The only problem I can forsee with this poem is that it's basically muse-less. I usually write my best stuff when I know who I'm writing to or about, but, fuck, this literally could be about anybody I ever loved, dated, been friends with, or had a crush on. The only caveat would be it would have been written at different times with each of them--some of them when I first met them, others later on, and others only after they left. It's kind of unique of that way because, though it has one sentiment, it's pretty much a sentiment I've had for a lot of people.

I don't know--I guess you can chalk this one up to every lounge singer's requisite song for his adoring female audience.

Or, as Stephen Lynch would say, "this one's for the ladies..."

Enjoy.

AT THE LAKE
by E. Patrick Taroc

Long have I wondered what we are
When facing a fate not yet gleamed.
We’re the virgin lake seen by none
Except the silence and the sun--
By dark, casting back a star,
By morning, mirroring the sky,
Our face reflecting the you and I
I had always hoped you had dreamed.

How to be water there are no ways;
A river can only run its course
From end to end without a thought
As to the chaos in which it’s caught.
Nor does a drop count all the days
It has spent settled upon ground;
Nor does it ever die when found
Dried by that last fanning force.

If unmarred by meddling hands,
This lake shall ever endure true
Because a lake can never break
From the sheer weight of its wake
And a lake levies no demands,
Just as every joy I’ve known
Has been spent being left alone
Within the quiet confines of you.

(02/15/07) Copyright 2007 E. Patrick Taroc

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers