Sunday, August 05, 2012

poetry as a lesson in geography

Who could’ve known we have walked the same streets,
The same steps with the same pace this morning?
Would there be some spatial truth behind the medians
And distances we always gauge and disengage?
Admit it, we could’ve been more crowded
Without anger. We’ve been molding this landscape
Far longer than the patient breaking of trenches.
We have secret maps moles and hunters would envy,
We have forked wide and far enough to get lost
In the wrinkles of canyons, in the outskirts of lakes.
And aren’t slippages the sole purpose of wanderings?
Our paths could’ve gone worse if not for our faith
In destinations: This is where we go, this is what we do.
Or maybe: This is what you do, this is where I go.
The terrains could be as kind as riverbeds dry
Or wise and decent like weathered stones,
But there will be something in this land we will fail
To tread, and there are plenty more in another country.
We could go on and on, people lauding how far we’ve gone,
But this compass will only be as good as to where we stand.


Anonymous said...

Have you considered compiling your works into a book? These are pretty good, and I especially like this one 'in geography'. You couldn't have finished it any better with your last verses.

f. jordan said...

Thank you for appreciating it, sir. The idea came into my mind, to be honest, especially when a favorite local poet has suggested just recently that I do it soon, but I need more material to make one. And most of the works (in this blog and in my archives) are too, for the lack of better terms, youngish, coarse, so I need to write more.

Anonymous said...

It's good. But honestly, I wouldn't call it youngish. That, in my dictionary, could very well mean my usual works way back in high school - poems revolving around the infatuation for a certain girl. Haha. I'll be looking forward to more poetry as lessons. Good luck on your writing career, man.