Abstractions (A Poem)

I used to be able to think abstract thoughts,
this was before the baby, later kid,
before the oozing of the blood,
after getting to know death, but before his death..

I used to be able to write poetry
about vacationing suns and desperation.
Now all that falls on the page are tears of frustration
(and tiny sorrows) the words that are supposed to fall onto it
are desperately dying tinders
soon endlessly soaked by the grey matter,
the scientists are clearly missing.

It’s the thing that holds the days together,
makes them go fast and slow at the same time,
makes the weeks turn into years.

It’s that thing that has you staring into your own eyes,
late on a Saturday night,
and you realise that these are really the eyes of a nineteen year old,
but they look like old eyes,
maybe even wise eyes.
But it’s all an illusion,
a hallucination of the eternal soul,
that desperately wants to unite with you,
just as you desperately want to unite with it,
but it is just hallucinating you,
while floating in a quiet darkness
and you never want to visit.

I used to be able to think abs…
or perhaps that’s just a hallucination too?
A hallucination of the aged!
“It used to be this way and that,”
What’s now is always worse,
the bogeymen always darker, angrier,
and they have worse hair…
(they really do!)

Before any abstractions
I remember my father wisely saying
that humanity will always think the world is ending,
that these are our last days.
Haley didn’t hit the earth that week,
it won’t next time around either.

And being somewhere in the middle of history,
a forgotten afterthought,
not even lingering,
that terrifies me during the small hours.

I used to be able to think abstract thoughts,
now I’m happy with visualisations, small words
and the way my soul conjures you up
every time my mind needs saving.



© 2016 Eygló

2 Comments Add yours

  1. U share such truths In this about love, loss, aging, fear, hope…such sincere truths!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Eygló Daða says:

      Thank you! I think good poetry usually has very personal truths woven in them, maybe not for everybody to understand but there still – so I try! 🙂 xx


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