Three Poems by A.C.S.

by A.C.S. 
(A.C.S., the author of these poems, asked to remain semi-anonymous.)

I.

You say you’re hanging by a thread

       and if this thread breaks, you fall into – what?

               - - for how long will I fall into - -

but this thread, like Eden, was not meant for you –

your Eve is too cunning for the webs

                of false prophets.

So look, I tell you,

       to the seas above which you hang

       they ebb and flow

                 - rage and calm –

the molecules tear away in ethereal vapour

       only to gather again and fall

                 in their longing for home.

expand and retreat

       breathe in, breathe out

                 be a drop of water

                        cut your skybound tethers
                                                                                                           and fall.


II.

There is no love that would say

'Here am I. Choose me, plant me, know me'

But there is only the ever-doubting love -

       eluding capture, grown with a crown of thorns,

                 bloodied and embattled, always asking,

                        “Is it I for whom you search?”


III.

We idly fondle the future

with poorly chosen words

and half-assed sentence structure

hidden between laughs

of mistake and second thought.

L’esprit de l’escalier

reminds us to take charge

of our present minds

while the stretching teaches us

to take charge of our present bodies

in all their pains.


Silence

delivers a smile of memory lost

and found again

kept just long enough

to demand recognition.



A.C.S., the author of these poems, asked to remain semi-anonymous.