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| She's Not There |
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| Poetry Cycles - Poems of Transition | |||
| Lisa Jain Thompson | |||
| Thursday, 04 January 2007 15:14 | |||
 She's Not There
She's Not There
The Zombies
(Rod Argent)
Well no one told me about her, the way she lied
Well no one told me about her, how many people cried
But it's too late to say you're sorry
How would I know, why should I care
Please don't bother tryin' to find her
She's not there
Well let me tell you 'bout the way she looked
The way she'd act and the colour of her hair
Her voice was soft and cool
Her eyes were clear and bright
But she's not there
A husky voiced breeze on the afternoon desert, vanishing as quickly as she appears,
A transubstantial magician exchanging her presence
For a promise when you return she will be here,
She is the perfect poet, facile and silver tongued, a whisp of hope that fades in the light.
She is who she is and nothing, a star-crossed fantasy
That slips in and out like some ethereal Helen d' Troy.
The sea mist rolls over the sand to caress her, loving her obscurely as she walks,
Her soft lips a whisper beckoning the unwary
To join her ankle deep in the cold grasp of the tide.
A beautiful apparition, full breasted, flowing haired, she plays upon hope that's not there,
A loving chimera caught up in her nightmare
That draws all she lets close to her dark eyed embrace.
Her reality is everything, reality is nothing, coming and going whenever she appears,
A porous matrix clinging to her transluminal magic,
A whole cloth woven of words and insubstantiality.
She silks herself in clever illusion, beguiling Selene for a cold lovers' moon,
Declaring her faithfulness, a sweet siren's promise,
Before watching you all shatter on the crags down below.
L. J. Thompson
September 2000
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| Last Updated on Thursday, 04 January 2007 15:36 |
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