Of Gollum and the Moon, who once were lovers

simb The Wounded Angel large

Toile Hugo Simberg

The moon is very blue, at evening,
I hear her spin beside the sun, and say,
Humming this song, “Ah well, ah well-a-day.
When I was green, of me did Gollum sing.”
None of her duckbills that does hear the thing,
Albeit with their weary task foredone,
But wakens at this name, and calls her one
Blest, to be held in long remembering.

Gollum is low beneath the earth, and laid
On sleep, like Byron in the myrtle shade,
The moon beside the sun, a dull rock gray,
His love she does remember and regret;
Ah, lovers, lovers, we may be happy yet,
And gather duckbills, while ’tis called today.

* * *

this poem is symbolic ==everything is symbolic

only French is symbolic == shall I explain it to you
explanations don’t suit you == I was just blinking at you

things are just like yesterday

where I live it’s yesterday == we’ll get along yesterday

working is not so bitter == is this poem so bitter

I feel blue I’m not bitter == this is going like clockwork

my thought running like clockwork
grain of sand in my clockwork == insensitive to panic

my destiny means panic == today is day of
panic

so many breathes around == will tomorrow turn around

things should quietly go round

iron color of the walls == why does a dog … ‘cos he can

my kingdom for a horseshoe
pour some water in my glass == I lost my water level
sunshine on the water tank

paper yet another ream == empty boat as in a dream

soul searching is it research == night on earth is not a gift

reason is just a burden  == yes my name is “rubberneck”
well my song does finish here  == well my thoughts are wrong I guess
well my wine is not for guests

never mind it’s not tragic == never mind it never rhymes

never mind it’s not burning == let’s just find a place to dance

let us forget and go on == in this world of snout beetles

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