Tuesday, August 04, 2020

The Worst Is Yet to Come

Shed them one by one
like recent habits,
perhaps, or ancient loves.

Feel the world denting under your knees--
bury your face deeper in the pillow,
and let it out.

Listen to the grinding of Fate's stone
chaffing your thighs,
pencil a smirk across your face
and raise it to the light.

The worst is yet to come.


In lawns that knew nothing
but the breeze dabbling in poetry,
a hammock strung
like angels to the skies;

In dusks wrapped in their own perfection,
and beaches slumbering at the lap of forever;

You sat, eyes wide, words few,
absorbing the sand like it's all that is left,
spitting it out variations on the divine.

The horizon blinked under your gaze,
and repeated itself, fumbling and hurried,
waiting for reassurance
at the corners of your mouth.


Plunge it, once more, into darkness
and burn a sigh.

We make alliances of convenience,
greeting smiles with a stare,
showcasing the cleared lots
like something’s there.

But the words dim, and scramble,
and shift direction on the page.

They know, too, like I do,
like the night falls,
they sing it under their breath:

The worst is yet to come.

(To Katyssima, originally posted on September 12, 2006)

8 comments:

Unknown said...

the worst is yet to come? why?

arch.memory said...

Because I am tired of optimism when not much seems to be supporting it these days...

_z. said...

patience grasshopper!

no jadd, beautiful words ashraf. and it is true, I too think the worst is yet to come.

but we can smile nevertheless.

katy said...

she's not so hidden, dear. and blushing.

-katyssima

Mark Prime (tpm/Confession Zero) said...

Wow. fine work my friend. Powerful words. Swept me up in their torrent.

Thank you.

arch.memory said...

Thanks, Z. Let's hope we're both wrong!

K, only to you, dear...

M, thank you!

Russell Ragsdale said...

I knew one could weave a tapestry in tears but I didn't know one could weave doubt, irony, and synicisim into a cloth this luxurious with despair.

Anonymous said...

I really liked this;
'absorbing the sand like it's all that is left,'

Frankly, too emotional I felt, but resonates well with your notion of 'being civilised' being what you can afford in a park while listening to classical music.

And Katy's answer is horribly adorable.

Ton frère Ahmad