Friday, June 8, 2012

Three Poetic Realizations About Relationships

The poems all have a theme this time.

You Came

You came yesterday,
so you will not come today.   
But this now-familiar silence
is strangely peaceful.
In solitary muteness
I discern incomprehensible images.
This time, being far from you
makes me able to see you.

You came here to me
from out of that tangled mess,
not searching for new questions
or wanting to hear more answers
that were really just orders.
You were many years younger than me
and I was a stranger.
But everything outside us didn’t matter.

You came back now and then
like a dog out of the rain,   
wanting my comfort but not my opinion.
I always gave you what you wanted.
Gradually, your youth faded
and you began to speak like an old man.
You stood by hoping I would do for you
what you never tried doing for yourself.

You will come again tomorrow,
but you won’t see or hear me.
Night and day have changed
and I am more than your woman now.
Trying to explain this to you may be
like writing a letter to an illiterate.
But when you stand there in the hall
and hear the silence behind my door,
I hope you will get the picture.

The Magician’s Hand
Love is a magic show.
You overlook the sleights of hand
because you don’t want to see them.
You want to believe the impossible is real
and live forever in that moment of amazement.

But when the magician’s hand comes back to strike you,
you are suddenly shown what is real.
The magician only wanted to see the look on your face
and take pride in knowing you believed in the illusion.
It is the magician who decides when to stop the show;
you can only take what you get before the curtain falls.

Please Be Kind

If you can,
please be kind.
That means you can see
I meant nothing by

what I did.  I haven’t changed;
I’m still a genius fool.
What you needed wasn’t there
because I was cruel.

I can’t see
how to go on,
but I recall exactly
what was not done.

I gave you nothing
of any real value,
but now that I
can see that too,

please be kind.
Copyright (C) 2012 by Eric Landuyt


  1. The first one is a prime example of telling instead of showing. I find myself much more interested in what actually happened or is happening than the narrator telling me about it.
    I like the connection to magic made in the second one. Overall, though, I think poems about love like these would work more effectively if the love aspects are more subtle; allegories like the second one would be an example.

  2. These are really good, great job I like the mystery, but in the first poem everything's a bit vague.