October 02, 1995
poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
"Experimental Poetry About Pat"
Experimental Poetry About Pat
Michael F. Nyiri 10/02/95
Sometimes I think
of you with a tear in my eye.
Sometimes I miss the thought of you even though I know I'm happy.
Three years I spent with you.
Did you forget me?
Did you ever really care for me?
There were good times.
I do remember.
My mind always told me that
As I sit stationary with keyboard at the ready, does memory
play tricks on the soul?
Are questions all I will ever have to deliver to the world?
I read a letter which you wrote me.
It doesn't make much sense.
I try to decipher the meanings and the word placement.
I ponder the moods which you showed me.
I know deep in my soul that you were not the universal love.
I loved, love you with a pitying passion.
I cared, care for you with a care that is weighted down with
all of the themes I have played out since eternity.
Pat, dear misanthrope.
You taught me that I am not so special, but I always thought
you were.
You showed me a confusion with life I had never encountered.
I ponder as well: should I have been harder on you.
Should I have pushed my personality upon you like a conceited
bulldozer used to having my own way at any cost?
Was this the key to lasting coupleship?
I don't think so even as I think of it.
My questions in life have been doomed to never see answers.
My undying love of the human race, and the universality of
meaning seems to melt out of me like so much dripping candlewax.
I remain the empty urn into which will someday be poured all
of life's mysteries.
Until that far-off time, I can only wait. Wait for an eternity.
Wait as I have been waiting for centuries.
Wait as I will wait forever.
What wait will conjure up an answer?
Easy answers don't come easy.
I remain, dear Pat, your friend.
Even as friendship fades from memory.
Link to the original graphic poem
copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri
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