So its goodbye, Helen … your requiem I write here.— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
that you were the brightest…
that you dazzled me more than anyone I’ve known…
these things I give you.
That you’ve pushed my borders out past
what I can expect to see again
ruined my expectations of future surprise.
Why you couldn’t support what you offered me, I’ve wondered.
is it too tenuous there…out near the edge of what we can be?
And am I so close to this edge of myself then;
I never saw anyone farther out than I, before I met you,
…and you fell
We’ve so few years to see so few people
and you took so many subtle hopes with you.
So, its goodbye then…I waited…I wrote,
I talked to your husband, my friends, our friends,
I talked to you.
But the months are hard on new love
and love separated lives on mostly on hope
and I’ve lost track of what it was I can hope from you.
You come and go, change, and are gone too much
the string’s gone too thin…
these things I give to you…
That I’m not happy we came here
to where the ascending star of future’s promise
has past to the smoldering memories of hopes dashed.
gallagher
5 dec 78
Archive for the ‘Helen O.’ Category
1978-12-05
Tuesday, December 5th, 19781978-12-10
Sunday, December 10th, 1978Shadow weekend, Berkeley and San Fransisco.— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
Helen and feelings and emptiness
torn fabric from another cloth
we could touch and talk but there was something gone between
I reached across to where she was…eyes of love
but the distance was much too far.
Her world comes apart every two weeks
and she’s here and I’m there…
“Doctor my eyes” by Jackson Browne played
and I told her I felt like that … I see too clear
its something about my ability to emphasize, to see
that is what she needs so badly
‘Touch me with some reality beyond these labels and acts,
beyond the ache of acute insanities and those screaming doubts
about the future and relief.’, her eyes say.
I can, I care … but it costs me some deep ache,
some transference … some ultimate barrier beyond which
my empathy and her haunted eyes cannot … cannot go.
As the jet rose I took my peace and understanding back…
it can only be given as token…
the abyss waits on all of us in various degrees my sister
good luck to you… what else can I say….?
gallagher
10 dec 78
– upon leaving SF and visiting helen
o’flarity
1979-01-19
Friday, January 19th, 1979Helen wings her way to me.— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
Rose and I lay in disrepair.
Insanity grows, the peaceful feeling goes.
Today someone asked me why I was always so happy,
I must be very resilient.
The ground moves, neon glows, abstractions and anxiety.
These days spin, I’m split… die or heal, I beg.
“Come, life.”, I said, “Show me everything.”
Such blatant mockery… supreme tests for me.
I rise agonized to each dance, and call them on….
Houston… does it matter, was I only dreaming?
I used to know, only months ago…
that I could, would, survive.
And now I agonize over love’s loss again.
A little Vodka… the time goes.
God knows, I don’t.
gallagher
19 January 1979