Doug Loves Sarah, Week 6 of 52

Sarah and my Poetry, part 1

I once considered myself a poet above just about everything else. Now I sort of consider myself, well, myself. I kind of eschew labels because just about the time I can get one written down, it fades away.

When I met Sarah, though, it was poetry that largely fueled me. One of our earliest "clicks" was the fact that she liked my poetry. This always makes me happy. Coming from her, despite her general leanings to a scientific background and her, at the time, claim that she was unemotional; it meant something to me. I did not want marry her, at the time, but I did like hanging around her.

I honestly could not tell you what she thinks about my poetry above and beyond the assumption that she seems to like it. All I can tell you is that she seemed to like two pieces more than any of the others. Mind you, these are not poems written for her, but poems that I wrote and she liked. There is a third one that she liked, called "Tired" that was for someone specifically, and so it will not show up here.

I share these pieces with you, now, because I think they summed up a lot of what she and I talked about in the early days...simple rage and emotional confusion. The first is childish angst poetry, and the later one is still one of my personal faves and one of the most mature poems I have written...and I think this contrast highlights just about every facet of our relationship.

I am not be. I am not even me, So just Fuck me gleefully And like precipice Deep inside Shatter all scream and dreams Pour out nothing... I am not be... Random shouts through fog Off cobble-stone street... Random shouts of poetry And like a perfect syllable, I rhyme ungodly well... I am not be. I am not even me, So just Forget And scream these dreams Pour out nothing... Fucking life All the way to the bone...

Kabuki looks at Kabuki And feels a moment of elation Onnagata dreams out loud Until it unfolds, In his dearest memories. Knows it not That it is not; It would seem. But seemings are strong, And love so carefree and distant Dance hand in hand, Two women laughing In that quaint, Japanese way. Kabuki looks at Kabuki And feels a moment of confusion Onnagata knows the face's mask And it unfolds, In his momentary desires Knows it is not What it would seem. Can not once his love be. But loneliness is long, And love so strange and close. Dance hand in hand, Two men laughing In that quaint, Japanese way.