Voilà

Voilà
     by Cam M. Roberts


"With those unseeing eyes I so begged when alive to look at me."
     — Samuel Beckett, ...but the clouds...


I
A Pledge 
is a benefit 
of the doubt 
under the condition 
of a dream 
as contagious 
as Terror Logic —

It sifts 
through us 
as if 
conduits
still 
awaiting 
some consensus 
in reciprocal 
wilderness.


II
Transference 
is a kind of catharsis 
delivered to the wrong audience:
So keep on raving, 
then survey 
your conspirators
because everyone's 
a Cult Leader
in this country.
 
Phallic contrails 
lacerate the sky —
Walls hood our bane.

How are we actually kindred spirits 
in our virtual world of zeitgeists? 
Are we distinct by subverted limits 
when we ourselves are poltergeists?


III
In view of the burning evening,
this atmosphere turns to grey
as does the time we share together, 
our cigarette silence becomes 
more sensitive by the second:
Underscoring of echoic vespers 
by melancholic starling whispers —

Until darkening
spires on yonder
horizon steep
can no longer
be seen
out of memory - 
Nightfall snatches
it all, under 
a polished claw
half-unsheathed 
the waxing moon.

All withholds the mind's return
in shrouds of ghost-light, now
half-blind, half-holy. So how
will our final tableau recur?

All that is beautiful 
catches the Light 
you allowed yourself 
to shine upon —



© CMR, 2014