At least you say ‘shut up’
in the nicest way, explaining
why you cannot cope with my
stentorian voice droning on and on
my interminable descriptions of an
inner life that leaves your neutral
sphinx-like self in confusion
The mercurial fluctuations of my
emotional life, my love of physical
pain, concomitant spiritual ecstasy,
it is too much, you need someone like
yourself to keep the calm, the Eternal
Peace your soul longs for, not my
passionate involvement
With all things in life, not my songs
flowing forth in a suffocating stream,
I understand, you need not explain, I’m
just glad patient paper can receive my
melodramatic effusions of love and pain,
most of all, I love my inner world where
my characters can act out
Greek tragedies and Baroque horrors that
fascinate and delight my inner eye, while
you are the root of life, anchored in reality
cool and smooth, even keel, the wind under
your control; you only shout and jump around
when the forces of nature and destiny escape
your strict control; which is all the time
But your inner fire is controlled, I am much
obliged that my barbaric attitude to life
has not yet driven you away…
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