REVERBERATIONS: A Gay Lament ~continued

I moved to San Francisco a few months after my Groundhog's Day party in 1973. My poem REVERBERATIONS: A Gay Lament (continued below) gave a partial explanation for the move.

(I think it was pretty good for a twenty-three year old.

I was such a foolish Romantic then... and still am!)

I've returned to the same dark place several times in my life,

but so far have managed to pass through it.

* * * * *

I'm in the net again.

Old behavioral patterns reemerge from buried depths

like hollow airtight buoys vainly shoved beneath:

Nihilism--

fills a world 

devoid of cosmic purpose…

fits a life 

estranged from common bonds;

Self-defeating-deprecation

inflates my masochistic ego…

conflagrates my mental sores.

* * * * *

But why encourage death's dark forest

when time's abyss shall gain the final victory

in its own time?

Despite feeble grumblings and desperate fears

the end is certain….yes.

Yet I deceive myself

in thinking I will have won

by choosing the time and circumstances of my end.

Not victory……………………….capitulation.

And although oblivion might seem preferable

to the pain,

why not experience what is?

--whatever it may be--

the pain at least is memorable.

* * * * *

Memory

--- that vital substance of our being ---

present particles of time streaming

endlessly

from one to next---

We spend our days and minutes...

our lives

reflecting constant past…

projecting constant future…

The present never really is.

* * * * *

Recurring particles in my life

create a mood of disparate desperation.

Stifled friendships, muffled cries

expose futility in my projections…

….a life alone.

I can't accept it!

(But need I?)

I need fulfillment of my own…

(I must move…)

….understanding, companionship…

(…to western enclaves…)

…perhaps, even love, if it really be

(…to find, to save…)

So Farewell:

To one who never knew (…me)

to one I never knew

except as a perceptually-obsessive infatuation,

Adieu

* * * * *

My melancholic muse grows weary:

Depart, fair phantom of my soul.

Must thou be exorcised with false lethargy?

Must I crawl back in my withdrawn tortoise shell

preventing my destruction

concomitant with thine?

Summon me a surrogate death -- mental euthanasia--

Obliterate the memory of one face.