High Hopes

Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young,
In a world of magnets and miracles,
Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary.
The ringing of the division bell had begun
Along the long road and on down to the causeway.
Do they still live there by the cut?
There was a ragged band that followed in our footsteps
Running before time took our dreams away,
Leaving the myriad small creatures trying to tie us to the ground
To a life consumed by slow decay.

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
With friends surrounded
The nights of wonder

Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us
To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side.
Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again,
Dragged by the force of some inner tide.
At a higher altitude with flag unfurled
We reached the dizzy heights of that dreamed up world.

Encumbered forever by desire and ambition,
There’s a hunger still unsatisfied.
Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon.
Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon,
Though down this road we’ve been so many times.

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
The taste was sweeter
The nights of wonder
With friends surrounded
The dawn mist glowing
The water flowing
The endless river

Forever and ever.

– Pink Floyd

Submitted by:

Arvind, who says “There is no such thing as too much Pink Floyd.”

Postscript:

I will refer you to our last post featuring Pink Floyd and leave it at that. Far be it from me to say anything more.

The Tourist From Syracuse

One of those men who can be a car salesman or a tourist from Syracuse or a hired assassin.
— John D. MacDonald

You would not recognize me.
Mine is the face which blooms in
The dank mirrors of washrooms
As you grope for the light switch.

My eyes have the expression
Of the cold eyes of statues
Watching their pigeons return
From the feed you have scattered,

And I stand on my corner
With the same marble patience.
If I move at all, it is
At the same pace precisely

As the shade of the awning
Under which I stand waiting
And with whose blackness it seems
I am already blended.

I speak seldom, and always
In a murmur as quiet
As that of crowds which surround
The victims of accidents.

Shall I confess who I am?
My name is all names, or none.
I am the used-car salesman,
The tourist from Syracuse,

The hired assassin, waiting.
I will stand here forever
Like one who has missed his bus —
Familiar, anonymous —

On my usual corner,
The corner at which you turn
To approach that place where now
You must not hope to arrive.

– Donald Justice

Postscript:

There’s something about this poem that makes me think of a sunlit afternoon darkening ominously. There are things that we know about life – bad things happen, death is around the corner – that we don’t acknowledge to ourselves as we go about our mundane lives. Mundane – there’s a word that means, literally, ‘typical, of this world’.
Most of us only know of spies and international intriuge through books and movies, and yet there are people out there who do this in their real lives – that’s their mundane, everyday thing.
More about Donald Justice here and here.

The Subway Piranhas

Did anyone tell you
that in each subway train
there is one special seat
with a small hole in it
and underneath the seat
is a tank of piranha-fish
which have not been fed
for quite some time.
The fish become quite agitated
by the shoogling of the train
and jump up through the seat.
The resulting skeletons
of unlucky passengers
turn an honest penny
for the transport executive,
hanging far and wide
in medical schools.

– Edwin Morgan

Postscript:

I love this poem for so many reasons – that it’s set in the subway, which I love travelling in, that it whimsically drags in piranhas – piranhas! – into it, and that it makes you wonder exactly *where* all those skeletons in the display cases come from.
Here’s some biographical information on Edwin Morgan. I’ve read a couple of other poems of his which I loved, and I’m going to run those soon-ly. This reminded me of Shel Silverstein’s poem about someone eating the baby – read it here.