We talk into larger silences— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
survey the ruins with pessimism
and wait resigned
for more or less of the same.
Love distorted, a frozen taffy
in the cold water
of reality.
Strings of what was there, before
are now just memories
when we are alone with our pillows.
…addiction death.
gallagher
27 Oct 85
1985-10-27
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1985-10-27
No humor, no compassion, no cherishing love.— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
Only the bitter ends of something
that perhaps perished long ago.
My Norwegian lady, so full of pessimism;
your world growing smaller day by day,
can you really have been
the flower of my youth and dreams?
People, like slow motion movies
of cause and effect,
come clearer as the years pass
and the patterns weather
through the wood.
I ache for what was
and see it alive and pure
in the eyes and feelings
of these two boys, born of us.
But where have ‘we’ gone?
You said faith and trust
had died long ago….
How I ache to see what’s left.
gallagher
27 Oct 85
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1985-10-27
All weekend Chris was here— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
how nice it was.
He, like Danny, is so flexible.
He gives me my space when I ask
and loves and is patient
until my heart calls
and
we play again.
Small eyes of trust and love.
How I hope my problems with your mother
will not come between our love
for my blood is full of you
and my heart is bound to your smiles
and
your small hugs.
Our time is so precious and so short
and this blood we share
is so rare.
It’s ours.
gallagher
27 Oct 85
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1985-10-27
All my life I’ve followed the knowledge— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
that love only thrives from tension…
The immanent departure, the part-time lover,
the child of separation.
The other love, that of the stable,
decays for me until I turn restless
against its sureness and certainty.
Until the tension returns.
And so I stand here, where tension snaps,
and I would have it no other way.
All my choices
have always brought me here.
gallagher
27 Oct 85