Charm

I wrote a poem;
A magnificent slam-winning poem.
It zoomed in at exactly two minutes fifteen
And in that short time there was such rhythm
And rhyme to my rhetoric, the references
To contemporary issues and events were of such wit,
Scintillating sarcasm and rapid repartee,
The Kalashnikov rat-a tat-tat of my consonants
Was so clean, so clinically quick, so Vorsprung Durch Technik
That you would not have been able to sit
For one second longer than the ringing
Of my final vowel in the air
But would have leapt to your feet 
To declare your joy, to share in
The triumphant climax to my cathedral organ crescendo.
You would have loved it.
And you would have loved me.
And I would have grinned like a boy
As you hailed me 
Master Observer of the Human Condition,
Holder Beholder of Power and Calm,
Voice of the People of the Planet Forever, 
Our Poet King!

And we would stand together, glowing in the charm.

And for one warm summer meadow moment
Of one hundred bells chiming
We would have known unity of purpose,
The flush of liberte, egalite, fraternite 
 In our hearts, in the blood of our cheeks, in our eyes,
Yes, our eyes, each filled
With a fresh flash flood of emotional release,
Cleansed immediately away as we squeezed them closed,
Deeply inhaled the ecstatic realisation of our sparkling
New intuitive perspectives, and as the ineffective
Single-use contact lenses of cynicism dropped from our eyes
We would turn to each other, look deeply into each other
And love, love, unconditionally love.

You would have loved it.
We would have overflowed.


And there would be nothing, magnificent nothing, to fear.

Photo by Chris Harrison