So hungry-sensitive that he
craves day and night the pap of praise,
he’ll ease his gripes or fingerpaint
in heartsblood on a public page.
The ordinary world must be
altered to circumvent his rage.
He’ll tell, with stylish Angst of course,
the inmost secrets of our bed.
Words are far worse than drugs; there is
no hope of surfeit or remorse.
The world lies wide, and warm. No kiss,
no child, no prayer will keep him here.
I’ll wash the floors. He’ll watch the stars.
I’ll salt his life with common sense.
He’ll suck my sap and vigour down
the crude mouth of his private hell.
Visions have no equivalents.
He’ll die of drink and candy bars.
(Gwen Harwood)
More Poetry from Gwen Harwood:
Gwen Harwood Poems based on Topics: World, Anger, Hell, Drugs, Kiss, Praise, Sense & Perception- The Glass Jar (Gwen Harwood Poems)
- Critics Nightwatch (Gwen Harwood Poems)
- Estuary (Gwen Harwood Poems)
- Barn Owl (Gwen Harwood Poems)
- The Wound (Gwen Harwood Poems)
- Daybreak (Gwen Harwood Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: World Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Anger Poems, Praise Poems, Kiss Poems, Hell Poems, Drugs PoemsBased on Keywords: gripes, pap, circumvent, angst, fingerpaint, heartsblood, equivalents
- Angels Of The Love Affair (Anne Sexton Poems)
- The Passing (Arthur Conan Doyle Poems)
- The New Bath Guide: Part II, Letter XV (Christopher Anstey Poems)
- Let's talk about love / let's not talk about love (Cole Porter Poems)
- The Greenland Voyage, Or The Whale-Fisher's Delight: Being A Full Description Of The Manner Of The T (Anonymous British Poems)