Melancholy...

When I'm in the city, this is how I feel. I experience so much beauty and creative expression, diversity and culture...with an eerie underlying toxicity, that forces me to look through melancholy eyes

When I looked in to my maudlin grey soup I couldn’t see the bowl,

but I could see the world so clearly…

I knew when I saw my future tears creating ripples

and I saw no end to the effect...

I knew then that I liked the melancholy.

 

When the brightly coloured clowns wheeled a one wheel away, the piazza did fade

and I knew that I liked the melancholy…

 

When my eye couldn’t draw away

from a homeless man asking for change,

I knew that I liked the melancholy.

 

When my paper held promise, a bare heart was open,

and the love story ended as a tragedy…

 I knew then, that I liked the melancholy….

 

He sang the blues and his knee moved

to the rhythm in his heart

and I cried and I smiled,

and I knew that I liked his melancholy...

 

My heart holds tears for you, it fills to the brim…

when they trickle down my skin,

I see clearly, I feel love and I like the melancholy.

Reviews

[...]

. a fascinating piece of writing ...
. very vivid and moving ...