1972 Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

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"Untitled V"

If the motionless arms of unrequited respect
Could grasp the meaning of what I wanted to say,
I could express eloquently every syllable
And build a rook of words pointing
Perpendicularly to her heaven,
But alas, and as the poets profess, alas,
'Tis not so - 'Tis a handsome lie:
She isn't dwelling in a heaven,
Save what clouds roll in my brain.
She's here, and real, and I cannot
Build a rook which points skyward.
It's too much trouble.
I can only travel in an unreal world,
To where she'll sit waiting - but it won't
Be for me.....
She might be easy for me to grasp,
Like my arms of unrequited respect,
But then I'll know for sure
That my rook would never point skyward
Again.

1972

copyright 2001-2004  by Michael F. Nyiri
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