Simple Request

by

Frank Valentyn

Half-hour's worth of tabula rasa, full emptiness
assorted pencil rapping, tapping, trapping of ideas
the tumbling vacillation and vacuums of unstructured thought
small pleasures and little tragedies
thumbing through the lists and inventories of my mind
Why don’t you write something nice to me? she asked

To starboard, greyblue royalcloth of ruffled sea
a yellow weaverbird singly searching
to port, half-reflecting in a hazy pane
bearded pencil-wielding moujik would be me
sea-blown hair, behind him yet another sea
protected soundless echo of unseverable reality
neatly framed and sane selection
beyond again, a course, a direction
choice and habit, ambits of time and testing
manner and inflection, finely tuned reflections
and across from me, light to all darkness
compass to moment's want of known direction
you to whom I would dedicate my navigation
within my calmest depths lives your reflection
and discovers discovery within my writing
suddenly a festive exuberance of yellow wings
ecstatic flight of turbulent sunflecked surprise
mirrored celebration of constant joy awakening
weaving light and brightness through my being

I'll have to think about that, I said, seeing
my pencil firmly hesitant in the knowledge
that I would hardly do justice to the profundity
contained in so simple a request

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Lines Upon A Portrait Of Mr Edward Alexander Crowley
by: Barry Van-Asten
from: London, England, UK

To visit all of Frank Valentyn's poems, click HERE

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