September 19, 1975
5:15 p.m 
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
Untitled VIII
As I move toward open doorways
And the wind stops blowing
I can hear the sound of voices crying,
"But you said you liked me,"
And I can't remember why I took that step,
Yet I always tried to be truthful
And when they cry and tears adorn
Their faces
I can see that I am wrong.
Is it that I truly am afraid of inciting
one sided love affairs
Or am I afraid of never falling in love
again.
And why does love have to enter into
it at all,
he asks,
Love is a multitudinous experience
And even she wouldn't love after
Only one experience.
What is it that I search for,
That I cannot face certain relationships.
Why have I hurt so many
And can I ever try to turn off
my faucet without damaging the pipes.
Controlling emotion is a trick
for the magician
And I have never been able to
Make it that way
But I keep thinking
"This one will fall in love,"
Like Cheryl or Beverly,
And I will have to end it
Abruptly.
Always I will remember poor Donna
And her engulfing emotion,
Not like present face-games,
But undying trust and openness
Which only I could misinterpret.
Can I be trying to misinterpret
Present realities?
No you said, "I'm Lonely"
And that only means one thing to me-
A binding-- relationship
Locked up inequities
And unescapable realms of passionate
emotions showered upon me--
I am not ready for these sudden rainstorms,
Because I am in love with other
elements right now.
copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri
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