Intimacy

No one has ever taken the time to get to know me as you,
No one else will stay as long as an ounce of me remains.
You have worked through every part of me.
When everyone left, you stayed.
There were times when it was only us.
You have looked through my eyes,
You have shared in my meals.
Those who speak of relationships, never considered you.
Those who yearn for intimacy, could do worse than you.
I feel you now inside of me.
I am stuck in this prison,
You are not.
Yet you remain.
In this intimacy, I offer myself to you, worm.

Gerald Lee Jordan
Diamond Harbour NZ
29 December 2012

The Ring

The overthrow of kingdoms conceived by a coffee cup,
The murder of monarchs planned by porcelain.
The collapse of currencies delivered by the handle.
The ring left on the coffee table.
Well played.

Gerald Lee Jordan
Diamond Harbour NZ
29 December 2012

What Exists Below

In the depths of the Earth resides the remains,
Of pain and strife and agonies,
When atrocities and grief take place above,
They seep through the ground,
Like toxins through the skin.
The poisons seem to be gone from above,
But they coalesce below,
Bubbling, simmering, pressure building.

Fools think their actions have no results,
Our kind suffer,
Others who share this world suffer,
The Earth suffers.

The pressure builds,
As we go in blissful ignorance.
Much has been taken,
And much will be returned.

Boils arise on the surface,
Attempts to release what does not belong.
Like insects we build on shifting sand,
And abuse Terra when she refuses to do the bidding,
Of the pests which infect her flesh.

What we have created will come back to us.
The end of man is not the end of the World.

Gerald Lee Jordan
27 December 2012
Diamond Harbour NZ

Longing

Words, crowded words,
Stumbling to get out.
Thought, jumbled thoughts,
Yearning to be free.
Images, disjointed images,
Seeking a narrative.
Writer, feeble writer,
Longing for release.

Gerald Lee Jordan
26 December 2012
Diamond Harbour NZ

Picnic Near Our Plot

The place we purchased a plot,
Is where we have this picnic.
Our son runs and plays,
Where someday he will mourn.

He wants to go to the play area,
While we look forward to lunch,
“Please, Daddy, please, let me play!”

I rise and walk half way there,
He will be safe on his own from here.
I smile and tell him to be safe,
He has a fleeting smile and turns to run.

I turn back to the plot waiting for my ashes,
A chill blows through me as I realise.
This is how it will be,
This is how it must be.

I must go and he must stay,
I will not be able to protect him,
I will not be able to share in his joys,
I will not be there to comfort him,
When he has this same moment with his son.

As I walk farther from him and closer to this place,
I want to turn and run to him,
Taking him in my arms again.
He would not understand this,
He should not yet understand this.

I return to this place where in time I will dwell,
And hope beyond hope that he is safe, happy and well.

If only I can forget a bit longer,
That I must go and he must stay.

Gerald Lee Jordan
21 Dec 2012
Hanmer Springs NZ

Under Foot

Looking through closed eyes,
Speaking through clinched teeth,
The time for understanding is past.
Now be compost from which others spring.