CALIBAN'S ESCAPE AND OTHER POEMS by Klaus J. Gerken (1996) The Riddle ~~~~~~~~~~ There is no game here. And damn this Diplomacy we maintain a shrouded Veil that never lets us see each other's minds As clear as we should need to see. I need you more than ever, but cannot collect My thoughts. They are not clear. Do you love me? I know that I love you. I cannot get the point Across, or can I? Perhaps there's nothing more. I had hoped that once we did communicate, We would communicate with the better effort That would not be shadow sequences. Life's too short And we have little of this precious time to waste. A few hundred years from now we will be dust. Negative I thought? Yes, but why not do it now! 7 Nov 95 What to Focus on ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Commitment brings disaster When the focus isn't clear. Like the snow lion in winter: What we do not see we fear. Sometimes the solution Is difficult to know; No need to brood in anger Time just marches slow Where difficult arrangements Pull gauze before your eyes, The fragments of the puzzle Will never sympathize. So go your way demurely, Make honesty your goal: For those who cannot take it Have little left of soul. Know that giving only Enhances what you give. The takers never notice That they have naught to give. I witnessed two great armies, Love and fear clashed swords. Fear shed blood in anger, Love collected words. Perhaps there's some old moral To this story I relate, For love gives fear the courage To dissipate the hate That banishes the trust That brings great souls together To force them into caverns Ever deeper than they've been. And trust, another hardship For those entrapped within; Their empty form of madness Boils beneath their skin. I cannot understand it, The violence accrues, And everyone is saddened, And everyone still rues. These armour-hardened soldiers Have banished from their hearts Any kind of tenderness So they don't fall apart. Fine in battle, but in peace They cannot yet conform. What served them well in battle Forever becomes the norm. Empty, isolated, They search for human touch, But nothing is forthcoming, They cannot even watch The tenderness of others. A truly human loss-- Upon a sea of turbulence Their once pure hearts are tossed. 3 Nov 96 Autumn ~~~~~~ The frost lies on the eaves, And the north-wind blast is shrill; Autumn wine-stocks singe the air Like shadow-ghosts of yesteryear. With the heavy vintage gathered The must is in the vats-- The rare old wine is served tonight: Anticipates the new. The girls are laughing round the table; The dust is gathered, swept. The straw is warm but scratches hard-- It's hard, but there are compensations. High the Pleiades have arisen. Orion augers Winter's near. 4-5 Nov 96 Advise ~~~~~~ Do not feel sorry for yourself If it's something you don't have: If you really wanted it You'd have it in your grasp. 5/11/96 How soon the passion's over Where love would last forever. 5 Nov 96 For Miranda ~~~~~~~~~~~ Is there no possibility of merger? You are raging against something-- you are stiff and insecure. I who offered love find myself perplexed and have no cure For what might ail you--lost to me You're lost forever to yourself-- you are the rage of desperation-- No feelings can emerge As long as you hold hope in reprimand. I favour something better--just a Compromise--something that might tell us When it might be right to gather Up these shattered endings. I enable them-- But you disable them, and thus the end of two of us together breaks harmony apart. 13 Nov 96 *** Caliban's Escape ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cal. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter, And seek for grace. What a trice-double ass Was I to take this drunkard for a god, And worship this dull fool! Pro. Go to; away! Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it. Seb. Or stole it, rather. The Tempest, Act 5, Scene 1 I The loss of one Does not necessarily Preclude the loss Of the other. There's a poison that Lurks in the eye, And another, the mind's Introspection. And if even the heart Has it's shadow, the shadows Must never be known Let it suffer the master to feel Death's certainty: The sword's so close at hand. And the tempest Is close in the eye Beyond the sea's Heaving a sigh. Clouds billow, grow heavy, Reveal The omnipotent shadow Of all. The black moods are come. There is nothing to shelter, No cave with it's Lear, Naked and shivering His tragedy near. And no Hamlet's raving, Revenge of the sword. No Ophelia's sweet humming. No nunnery in store. These shadows are solid, Oppressive, and near. The depths of this knowledge Is thunder. And to what Shall we commit? The flesh decays, Wrinkles with the Canyons of aging We deny with a lie. And yet we still die. Time is a ravenous disease. It captures and captures And captures us more. It eats us alive, Ever a poison, As acid corrodes. We might call it learning; Scarring's correct. But the mind... The mind's the joker Who rakes the past For future premonitions. Its shelter is madness. Slowly eroding Sensibilities and sacrifice. Cabalistic, common And commotive. The mind's a drug That envisions you, But you not it. But you always know, You feel it happening, And then it disappears And takes you with it. Then there's nothing. A glowing ember You cannot place. And if you stir the ashes It might go out. The truth's been veiled. The revelation's falsified. And even the dusty old mirror Shows no mercy... Eventually there's nothing... No flesh, no bone, No shadow. No vampire, nor ghost. But yet you remain. Wandering an obscure Forest searching for the trees. Oh what madness Conquers love's Complexity! Paper walls, Windows without glass, Open doors, And yet we are constrained To live our lives alone. So...whom do we speak to? Who speaks to us? In there question That satisfies lust? Nay...but love And emotion Force us to trust. And in trusting will sell Us forever away. A poet said: I only love others Because I love myself. But where are those Who love themselves Beyond the body And the mind? The judgment's out, But who will judge? Not I, they say. Not I. But every day We judge ourselves Without understanding What's required. Isolated and alone, We stumble through Each ruling, until the aching Hurts so much That we cannot judge The judgment. And with no determination made We flounder like a wrecked ketch at sea: torn sails and all communication lost. And the laughter Of the jury hurts The eyes we cannot cover And the bright light hurts the eyes we cannot close until we refuse to listen and refuse to see what should be seen. We are alone. The mind's relentless struggle puts to order only that which stifles to protect. Shifted obliquely, Slightly off course, and on the edge of acceptance: not quite, oh not quite. The room as a prison. The mind as a toy. And we shrink from Commitment like Truth was is a lie. What's fair when the factors must factor themselves? Shadows are empty-- Can we be that sure? "I have a gut feeling" It comes down to that. No explanation. No solution. Just a denial. A displacement of logic. It cannot be real... But the clouds are too heavy, And the storm rages on. II Comfort. The driving force Of reprimand. Dark room. Windows rattle. Hounds howl in the stark reality. The mind goes numb. Expect nothing. Expect everything. There is no placement For the universe. For what is beyond the mind Is an illusion. Within it are the logic lies. Those we cope with every day To suffer us no reprimand. To suffer us a calm journey Through the sea of failure. What we would not give For our desires. Desires, Hope and comfort. The three divinities Of convoluted purpose. Twisted into tangles webs Of stark avoidancy. But who then do we comfort? Ourselves or others? And where does this avoidancy Collect our souls And crashes us to earth Eagle-wise with no regret? It's a plastic rifle situation. And why do we not halt Before the damage is done? Why go on like wolves Howling at the night? Or cowering like sheep Knowing death is near? What solution do we want? What solution do we get? Resplendent in effulgence, Or dark black rain? We drain ourselves completely Ignoring and ignoring. In that there's no stability. And thus the casual meeting Takes on consequences far beyond The normal. We drown. We drown in a storm That we've created. Never knowing That it's us, as the creators, That can dissipate the fear, The false estrangement, the weather And the waves. We need only Be open to the possibilities. We don't have to take them all, We can reject them as we go along. But we should not be ignoring them. That may make us outwardly seem strong, But slowly eats away until our human Part is spent. It numbs. No one sees the future But anticipates. A rosy indiscretion. Calm for now...even blissful... A call for a "gut feeling" No explanation's necessary... Such a pretty woman Such a desperate struggle Such a living hell for children Caught between.. And there's the fine line Between the love and the reality... Love and the reality Love reality Love I cannot solve the puzzle Love has been a stranger Sex has been a struggle For this I tear myself apart One day I will merger One day I will merger One day I will merger with myself Knowing that my struggle Is the greater sacrifice Of non-communication and dreams add the illusion She says she won't go out with me (She wants to she won't say But her body language says) Because she's got a "gut feeling" She will not explain Explaining's not that necessary I've always known the truth... She, not I, has built this wall And I can't tear it down... She won't let me tear it down But she wishes that I could She wishes that I could... I can't I'm not as strong as her defenses... I wish I were She's like no one else Worth fighting for... Damn this hollowed ground Desperation is the shadow of a wound And it's only time Can heal this wound... And it's only I who suffer Knowing it's too late For the one who set the healing To participate... Slowly even wounds must Gather dust... Fate is not the Perfect fate... One minus one is zero. An old arabic invention. The former world grew old without it. This is the concept of nothing. Before that there was everything. There was the ether... There, way beyond a sphere. And there was a purpose To everything. Now there's nothing. The universe born dies Has no purpose. There is no god. There's nothing that Makes feeling special.. Nothing that says You and I together Should reveal infinity. No argument is real. What's the use. I can't make you the muse That shelters my existence. Instead of shelter You couldn't shatter More for what I had hoped for... The reason why... The reason why... I never knew... You never spoke... And I wondered always Why... Why... Why must we die apart When we could be together Nurturing our hearts Toward a greater flame Than desperation... None of this's an easy word. Pain transcends reality, And comfort has the heart. III Sacrifice. Who does what to Sacrifice, themselves or others? The argument is simple, The solution never is. Or is it? Self sacrifice Sees common ground, and is willing To offer a solution. Not so much A compromise as a direct attack On common sense. Few can delve this deep, accept The scars, and remain complacent. It's hollowed ground, And few would venture in. But where meeting of the heart's concerned There's something that directs a dull equation Toward a dagger thrust of rape... Too few would compromise, and therein Lies the alienation, freely splattered On the page of hope. There can be no Redress. And the saddest part is failing to address That which needs to be addressed. To say There's nothing there. Denying even to yourself A solution can be gained. Or saying the solution Is the non-solution. Ignore and it will go away. Perhaps it can be hidden; but will never go away. Sooner or later it will re-surface with a vengeance. And the non-solution has vanquished What you needed most and now can never have. An emptiness pervades that atmosphere. Hollow, grave and very clear. Too clear to answer for the consequence. But there's no clear light for Caliban: Our hero suffers for the end He's forced himself to comprehend. A dream that scratches a reality Frighteningly shortens what will be. The glances and the waiting. Never to resolve itself. The questions with no answers. The frightening possibility That what was wanted cannot be. Such suffering is self inflicted. And the devil take whatever can't respond To a sincerity. But sincerity or not, The dream is not reality. And What is dreamt is better left to sleep. A certain poison draws the game And when you become the prey you stalk Then you better be awake. IV Thunder. The god of war is close at hand. Windows rattle with a force unknown To mortals in this theatre of war. The curse is come full circle. What you thought was once is not your own. There's a danger in commitment. In revealing What your mortal thoughts must fear. Believing other's poison you, you Poison just yourself. Last ditch effort. You thought it would reveal the truth, But the truth it did reveal was not the truth You wished to hear. And now you suffer for't. Vile the world. Human interaction. More like pigs and cattle In a slaughter house. Grunting madness with a slime disease, knee deep in the mire. Maggots on a swinging corpse Desperately seeking truth that does not matter. Such desperate struggle to address Convoluted madness. Each one to their own. Suffering at the expense of others. Crib-death would have done them good. Mass extinction of these seuropods Wouldn't harm the world in any way. Their love is like a madness. Dogs upon the skeleton of hope. Flies upon the dung. There's the crusted argument We can't contain. Limped revolution. Dividends That do not quite succeed In granting favours to the poor. Grand delusion. Poison dart. The dark wine flows. There's anger Where none should be. Anger not Directed to another but oneself. Anger that replaces fear. Anger that replaces what one Cannot understand. Her demeanor Was too pure to be a reprimand. She was perfect at her ease. Except when one got near to her. Too near. She could handle most. But could she handle me? She did. But the pushing back forced her to hand Herself to ruin. Her own. Her own. I didn't want to see myself a victim. I was victim of myself...not her. But her beauty did appeal. I cannot deny it did appeal. But there was something other. Something difficult I wanted to Break down that wall. She built Another wall. If I could I would have shifted to another mode And countered her attack. I didn't know What move to make. I revealed too much. Made myself too vulnerable. And She took everything. Seeing the smirk on her face when she thought I Was not looking. A cat who thought She's in control. I'd let her be. I'd never want her to conform. She's too important being how she is. She's the great mandible: she chews up everything. I'm rotten Where I am. I wish I could not Fall in love. I wish the monk in me Would be a monk. Plastic and transparent thoughts. The force divine does not communicate With thoughts as these. Plain, common, Soft, and fleeting in intensity. "A Gut Feeling"--I just Wonder why. Before, you found the anger. Gina said: "Be firm with her--get angry." But I just say: Get angry at whom? Not her--her nature is her way. With me? Of course I take all consequence For choices that I make. Otherwise I cannot be the hero in the war; But somehow always the Hero dies Before the love is consecrated. It's a wonder how the universe holds up Not knowing you and me... The storm's not dissipated. It seems to settle on this island Like a rash too cruel to cure. I waver all my sensibilities With shadows that confer A meaning I can't gather A meaning I can't cure. You broke too many meanings For me to compromise. Your perfect beauty captured me Like eagle claws and lies. I wanted to explore this anger: I froze like I freeze you. We really are alike you know. I thought you'd let me know. That "gut feeling" was the iceberg I explored, knowing that the sun would shine Only when I've gone. Knowing that you love me I bow frightened like a fawn Before a plastic beggar Sounding false alarms. This Caliban is busy Singing unknown songs. V CALIBAN: I love her. (What is love: the echo of a drunken dream?) YORIC: Why? (Why indeed? We soon enough find worms within the skull of our regrets.) CALIBAN: I don't know: She's beautiful. (Beauty faded but a crown Without the jewels. What beauty Does a blind man see?) YORIC: That's surface. (Waves upon the ocean. We stake so much therein.) CALIBAN: That's not the reason. (Reason is a compromise. Where beggars would be chooses Reason is complete.) YORIC: What's the reason? (There is no reason. Survival Of the fittest. Why pit yourself Against the void you cannot see?) CALIBAN: She's pure, and gentle, and she's kind. (Pure: blight upon all beggars. Gentle: The lion purrs after a meal. Kind: only fools are kind.) YORIC: She's isn't pure, and she isn't gentle, and she hasn't treated you so kind. (A blast of wind becomes A hurricane. Thunder, lightening And the sheer force of knowing Who you are--Maggots on a Sugar cube.) CALIBAN: She's treated me in a way befitting of the time we had together. (So much is befitting of a Slaughter house. The stench of blood reeks like stale perfume On a rotten winter's night. -- The frost just waits for spring And makes the charnel bearable.) YORIC: What was that? (Place the hand upon the dagger. Thrust it in your heart. Deep and ever after Wrench these souls apart.) CALIBAN: She seemed happy. (Happiness: a bold disease. Who can ever say he's happy But the fool? Lead on brave fool. There's air within your cap. Your smile drinks poison wool.) YORIC: Delusion isn't everything. (It's the only thing. A dagger-thrust Behind the curtain brought good Hamlet down. Ophelia always knew She wasn't Juliet. Perhaps only Yoric knew the score.) CALIBAN: But her laughter was sincere. Her eyes were glowing like a comet, And her body swayed Exuding globules from her sensuality. As a man I notice that. (Sincerity's a beggar. And the Comet's tail is dust. A hanged-man's Body sways, and plague exudes It's globules too--of blood. As men we notice nothing Until the rope chokes us desperate Upon the threshold of disaster. The wind is calm tonight Upon a raven's madness.) YORIC: She didn't put you on? (Wear a veil to hide the tears Or the laughter? -- Pray good sir Can you or you or you so tell?) CALIBAN: She didn't put me on. (The mad will never close their eyes. But the sane walk around with glass eyes in their hands.) YORIC: Voices from the past? (Now here's a struggle! The dust Blows up and we just realize ourselves.) CALIBAN: No voices from the past. (Shame. The wind strikes fear Into a human heart. But butterflies Are blown away into a world They could not know, and they Survive. The closer to us Is the past...the more we know.) YORIC: Then I wish you luck. (Luck's a silly game. Fools gold In the mine-shaft of reality. Where the winners are the losers, And the losers have no winnings But the losses that they own. From rags to riches: more like Riches, rags. We've come so far And then the wall strikes us With indifference. Poison oak. Reverent denial. Bloody whore.) CALIBAN: Thank you. (Janus faced, and cunning. Where's the thanks that is sincere? Where's the openness of instinct? What's the sum of our survival? "Gut feelings?" Well perhaps. The instincts stronger where the fear Convolutes your sanity. Pack ice melting. River's flood. Where's the fool's survival? Where's the poison wood?) YORIC: Just think of what tomorrow Might bring to you. You might just get what You do not really want. (Sage advice. And where do fools Rush in? Gather one gold nugget Too many and the hounds begin To hound you. Simpler to stay poor.) CALIBAN: That's a lie. (Oh and where do lies come in? What's the truth without the lie? What's the lie without the truth? And neither knows the other From the other. Ay, there's the rub. Question no tomorrows, and the past Reconstitutes no offering. We're Wolves without the sheep; or sheep Without the wolves, slaughtering Ourselves through understanding.) YORIC: A lie? Or something You just told yourself? (A chessboard is a map. Sometimes We see battles that are nowhere near The battle we should see. That builds The element of surprise. A desperate Struggle to repair. Who are we To maintain justice? Who are we To maintain prudence? Diplomacy? For what? To let History explain Why we did what? To atone for the failures that we have become? To Atone for the struggle lost? No roadmap there to help us... No chart to this island... You either get here of you don't... I am Caliban your host... I don't know what is going on... I don't want to know... I am a fantasy... Someone's imagination... The storm rages and I call collect... You may never see me but you know I'm there...) CALIBAN: That's a thing to be Explained... (Talking to yourself? I hope you answer truly. With a sense of certitude... The hurricane also knows nothing But relentlessly destroys everything. You are no disease. Sometimes just a human being. Sometimes just a bug. Seems like everything we do is stepped upon. There's midnight and the dark clouds gather. There's a dark menagerie of things I do not want to know or encounter. Flash lightening, hollow spheres, tornadoes with commitment... know nothing do nothing be nothing I have had enough Knowing who I am I am not anything Something desperately desperately despairingly survives.) YORIC: Explain. (I added all this struggle To maintain a compromise.) YORIC: Bunch of lies. VI There's sweat upon my brow. It's hot in here. Or is it me? The ghosts are perfect in disguise. Perfect in their unison. See them self-perform the situation. They know, they know. We are just the after-glow. The ships are tossed at sea, and the Waves are high as mountains We mortals cannot climb. We wouldn't want to climb them, Would we? It's a clear solution To the curse of this ascendancy. No more compromise. She and I Have been together only once, And twice this sacrifice was made. and twice it failed. If failure Be solution, then the solution is a Curse worthy of solution. Sensibility obscured. Science Never conquered love. I die. And I must die To pass this resolution: Never Love again with an open heart. It fails against the tide; And fails against the proper Instincts of the heart. Oh how foul the weather is! The storm does not abate. It strikes me in the farthest recesses of a failing heart. No shadows. No reality. No vision of the future. Just a fallen tree-trunk In a forest no one sees. So what is this commitment? What is love and life? What is both of us together Remaining so apart? The world's a solid ball Of dust. The universe Doesn't even recognize us. And here we are deporting Enmity. It's something I can't take. Alien to me. You froze in a mistake. Don't take it out on me. I believe, and the cabal says, There's a purpose to everything. One coin dropped, picked up By another. So it is with Passions and with sex. One Forgives and one forgets. But the forgiving is a Conscious thing, while the Forgetting is unconscious. Therefore, sacrifice. Lies. Purposeful and Consequential lies. To whom? But, to one's self. And therefore, never reprimand. The children do not listen And the ancient ones just suffer. You are on your own. Caliban is on his own. The storm grows stronger. There's lightning in the air. Scent of sulfur, brimstone, And the vast respect of Knowing one is naught. God is forceful on our knees. Eye to eye would he still be? She has been the mistress To my passion. Not having Touched her body I don't know the sexual feeling, but I know The bondage of her mind. Perhaps I know her bondage better Than my own. And that's a Greater fear, to fact: a fiction I cannot control; but worthy Of the retrospect that catches All of us in compromising situations. If Caliban survives the storm, Caliban is mad. Know this first And foremost. I don't ride this Raft for nothing. The poison dart Has pent ferrous fluctuations: Mind to Earth, and Earth to Mind. But the who cannot say the Earth Is not a mind? I for one think Purpose is in everything. A rock, A ladder, and a hook. It's an open book. We provide The entertaining: Reeperbahn And such, to the commode. Twice the level of revulsion. I only wanted to be loved again. You see, I had this freedom... Aging does not compromise... She was young and she was beautiful... She was full of apprehensions... And I was full of lies... Her "gut feeling" realized. I won't puzzle her again. VII So, what is love? A crumpled rose In a cellar of intent? A frozen moment in a shadow of regret? A bypassed hope to gain a soul To share with moments of our passion? A lovely gloss upon the dross Of the sublimity of lust? I don't know. Love's a fragile thing like fog Upon a window on a winters e'en. Love's a shadow things like dew Upon a morning meadow in the early spring. Aye, and love's a desperate struggle To displace a subtle individuality On augments we cannot place. Divine retribution. Eagle art. What we don't know now we won't know later. I have displaced the deprivation With a desperation. A struggle in a dark arena: Frozen corpses everywhere. The lion shakes his main at me, And I will stay to fight. Perhaps we are just anemones Upon an island rock of dust. Fleas upon a circle. Nothing we can entertain As being proud of. False regard. False promises. Hopeless dreams unrealized. I wonder if it's all a dream. But the it's not and we full awake To all these possibilities. Madness knows no bounds. If one is sure, how can it be That one is sure? What instills This surety? What makes What is poison softer? What makes men love women? Only sex? Or is it something Deeper? Something more profound? Something that corrects reality And places dream in context? Something to pacify the gods? Damn this storm! When I'm lost It's lost in me. And When the reason's found, The knowledge is dispensable. The curtains drawn. The sky is wounded. I'm always this alone. I'm always of that company That I despise. Oh the cries! The stifled cries! The stale aroma of the sobbing In the hellish night of plastic Dreams...Nightmares are reality. I can't deny it anymore. The curse has come upon me Like a sabre in the night. Let nothing that is nothing Vanish! Let the shades Of past endeavours vanish! Let me be renewed again! Let me live...and let me love again! Not love but lust is the redeemer! Hellish thought but lightning strikes Where least expected. Oh and how this rattle of the death Oriflammes! How the flashing flashes Shadows on the wall. One's the Shade of Hamlet. The other is The shade of Lucifer. And another Just impotent God. So we live like this In our desires. Fireflies upon the edge Of darkness. What we say Cannot be much. What we touch We just destroy. We're the god of Christ's reality. He didn't die for us. We die for him! Religion's such a lie! Like love and hate: There's nothing but the gray. Oh, a plague upon this howling! Would upon the struggle Be more struggle! Would upon The tempest be a hurricane! A blast typhoon to shut the mind Once and all against this raving! She is so much stronger even I Cannot foresee the future she provides. Fearful structure. Strange event. Look how quiet it's become...a solemn moment is the turbulence! I would confront her would she listen, But she's set her mind upon the course That only tramples me. Were love Within her heart, she's tear Her heart to shreds. Even kings must cower to vindictive storms! But I'm no king, And I'm not god, but mortal sinuous through and through. A monster shadow-boxing in the wind. Naught within but the Fear. Obsessive fear! Running through my veins Like bitterness and molten lead! I would rather that winds would rage Than bear this silence. Trees That do not sway are not alive. Men who do not fear are dead Against the world. Crash bang boom. The walls Are paper-thin. There's laughter In the alley of my thoughts. I cannot fathom anything. Voices mutter sentences with words I can't connect. The candle flickers The blows out. Raven blackness Calls the ghosts and murmurs fear. Murderous, defiant, what's become of us? Slack in our endeavours. On this island Lost. Oh the devil take us all! There's more to this than just the fall Of Caliban! Oh Caliban! This Caliban Will never learn! The trail of madness Overwhelms. Crimson dagger. Ghosts That haunt me night and day. The brows Sweat-drops pour like rain. Fie! and Disappear! No dagger will lodge In a body substance incorporeal! I must away from here! This madness Crushes bones like straw. And I am This aware! Awake, would I be dreaming and awake to find the nightmare gone. Hark what's that? Is it she that comes Through this black-eyes storm to bring Me brightness? I delude myself. She Will never come. Only I can rescue me. Oh let me go to sleep and dream Of gentler times, envision song And dances in the fertile breath Of spring! Oh let me have this offering! Voice: Sleep Oh Caliban Oh sleep. Your suffering Is now a corpse the living should not bear. You will not remember anything. VIII The morning of life's empire shines A brilliant diamond in the sun. The sky's a brilliant mass of light, And the shadows sharpen sensibilities. There lies Caliban, asleep. A man who has forgotten centuries, But cannot recognize his own. He's a man obsessed with love But doesn't gather love to him. Isolated on this island, far from land And company. He sees a desperate vision. And longs for the company of that vision In reality. He knows it cannot be. But in clinging to life and hope He struggles through denial like a butcher's Knife slices through a corpse. Here ends Caliban's Escape. When the vision appears again Caliban will know it is a vision. And in splendid isolation Will lay a cross upon its grave. Rest splendid angel You who have been real to me too long. Wanting nothing but your comfort, Loneliness did comfort me. How was I to know You were on a more isolated island Than even I? 13 - 26 Nov 96 Midnight Thoughts ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The fullness of the midnight hour And the thought that is not spoken. The vision of a loveliness Haunts my dereliction. The stars are living in the past And the moonlight settles where it may. Outside, beneath the cold enraptured universe The shadows of an oak tree sways. Often there's been no solution To the questions that we ask. Perhaps it's not our place to peel away the mask Exposing what we cannot handle. On The other hand, the mind stirs double Knowing that we've gone to this much trouble Knowing knowing knowing, the present is the past. 20 Nov 96 To Miranda ~~~~~~~~~~ The snow is crisp upon the ground; The sky is overcast: November's almost done. You and I are quits: for good this time. There's no denying sensibilities. Why carry on this hopeless dream? Reality regales you in the end. And for all the talking and the seemingly Endless compromises, it never ends The way we think it should. There's always One surprise too many. Sincerity of thought? Well, why should that have worked. After all the wall between us was impregnable. It should have crumpled long ago. At first I tried to climb the ramparts. When that didn't work...well, I had no battering ram so I couldn't tear it down. Then I just waited for the gates to open. They opened just a crack, but never let me in. I guess there's no use waiting any longer. Soon the winter will close everything. And I've so much to do that's better. 21 Nov 96 To himself ~~~~~~~~~~ You don't just find one disaster, You find many. Broken glass upon the road To clear salvation. Fine with me. Feet have better soles. Thick skin And boots to match. I cannot auger futures, But I do know when to quit. There's a fine line between hanging on To a sinking raft and swimming for the shore. You might not ever make it, but the Rescue boat didn't come, and at least you know This time you tried. There's little Left to say. Heavy clouds and blackness Stifles everything. This time Circumstances must prevail. The old monk Is alone among his books. And dreams? There can't be any. No illusion's worth This sacrifice. Fie upon the blemish. Pull the curtains shut. 21 Nov 96 Why a riddle if you just mean no? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Talk in riddles you go home. There's no second thought about it. Be up front with me. If I don't deny what I feel Neither should you. It's not my problem in the end, It's yours. No use complaining. I can see the other side: I've been there, and won't I assure you make the same mistake again. So why should you? It's a desperate struggle to survive. You want your children back I know. And of course a mother Shouldn't be so destitute. So then why play these fancy games? Isn't it better to come clean, Lay your cards on the table And tell me what you mean? For too long I've tried to guess your thoughts. I realize now it can't be done. Perhaps others realize it too. It takes a fool to stay at it this long. I guess that makes me king of fools. But I don't care, At least I've learned something And won't repeat the same mistake again. Next time I won't go for hints Or games. The answer must be yes, And never "maybe" or "later" Or "take it slow": the answer Must be Yes or No. No compromise And no appeal. If you want to be with me, That my dear's the deal. Waiting is a desperate thing. Not knowing's even worse. I've been honest from the start. You've just twisted every sinew of my heart. But then you always had me in your hands. I only told you what you wished to know. You seemed surprised and happy in your way. But after that you refused to respond. You said you didn't want to talk. That you has this "gut feeling". Nothing to elaborate. I guess you said it all. I who told you everything, Got nothing in return. And all I wanted was a word. And you were silent like a hawk. I won't be your prey. 21 Nov 96 Have to let it go ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I hasten to remind you That this end has no appeal With voices from the desert You know cannot be real There's hardly any effort Involved to say it so I don't know why we suffer We have to let it go There's no corner store solution I didn't think you thought it so But I'd thought that I'd remind Just the same In the times of desperation When we are miles from any shore We can't wait for a rescue We can't want more and more Once here was an offer And then there was denial A nail in someone's coffin An empty poison vial I don't know what to make of it You said you were my friend But silence kept us company More than our defense Reason me no riddle I'm a fool beneath your knees Where the water is a foot deep I will drown and you will freeze Lost without solution In a garbage pail of mud This affair is over The sleepers won't get up. 27 Nov 96 Do not be so mighty ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Do not be so mighty The mighty are so frail They have to stand above you Or else they have no will To follow the solution And mount the deadly kill 27 Nov 96 Copyright (c) 1996 Klaus J. Gerken Published by Ygdrasil Press http://users.synapse.net/~kgerken kgerken@synapse.net alt.centipede