Hindered by Hindsight, Ruined in Retrospect – A Poetic Ramble

Hindered by Hindsight, Ruined in Retrospect – A Poetic Ramble

 retrospect

hindsight

… do they serve a purpose

in my life…your… life?

… except to remind us

of those moments we’d rather forget –

-moments we’d rather  bury six feet under with a great big mother-f

oops sorry, with a tree planted on top…

self-examination never stops

… nor do the self-incriminations

all the what if I’s… if only they

would my life be different today…

if only… if only

I’d walked the other way…

talked till the end of day

and not just passed by…

with the winds restless sway

too late now… to ever say;

**

I jumped from a moving train once –

- as it turned out

it wasn’t the most sensible thing I’ve done…

… abhorrent   as I see it now

the then of young lovers parting

their embrace too juvenilely impassioned

to leave the train in graceful fashion

with a wistful smile and half-raised hand

a young  girl parting with her boy-man…

…no I left the moment a few moments too late

and jumped from a moving train

to land in an inelegant heap

on dry red dirt that saw little rain….

I never saw him again, despite hot wet promises

whispered in pre-dawn silence

when there are no witnesses…

- a lasting reminder of that parting

skinned from knee to shin

bruised without and within…

**

I sat on an  8 story ledge, once…

… I don’t know why… guess I was ready to fly

on the fumes from the alcohol I’d consumed…

…. drowned my fear of heights, it seems

at least ‘till I woke from wine-fed dreams

and realised how perilous my perch had been…

… I took most of my clothes off in public, once-

-as a dare to prove I didn’t care

for ‘the man’ and mankind’s decrees …

... in hot defence of my belief … I yelled I AM FREE

and ditched my clothes with no class or dignity

and tripped the light fantastic in Town Square Fountain…

… I failed to see 2 sets of feet walking the beat

…. but they saw me…

I held a dying hand, once-

… watching with hypnotic fear the rise and fall

of weakened chest… slower… slower…

… slower… stop.

I saw a near-headless body, torn skin… flesh bloody

… I stared in a war-hero’s soft milky eyes

over & over he rasped goodbye

to friends… long gone…  I cried

every time he started that litany of names….

I saw a baby born, more than once-

- sweet bonding moment… to hand a mother her still-sticky child

and see their souls bond in that moment of connection …

… and once… I saw a baby abandoned… on hospital fire-escape

… poorly wrapped and still slick with birth-fluids… no mother

… no name… or story… Baby Girl we called her,

we had no rights to honour her with a name….

- it broke my heart, all the same-

- softly in her ear I called her Cherub….

she had the deepest darkest eyes

and she survived…

… I danced naked on a high cliff, once-

…-no sight nor sound that a human world existed

I danced ‘round  the leaping fire… lost to all but the burning desire

to be me… to feel free…. liberated from life’s restrictions

 unhindered by hindsight and retrospective contradictions …

free to be one

 with light of moon and kiss of sun

and surging ebb of sea…

free.

Sharonlee©1-Jun-12