social spark Aisling Beatha: a Poem


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Monday, February 09, 2009

a Poem

I picked up a book of poems by Stewart Henderson yesterday. he is one of my favourite Christian poets, I even did a poetry writing workshop with him back in my late teens. Went all the way to London for it.

Well, yesterday at church I found a copy of one of his books on the 2nd hand table where people put things that are free to a new home.

I just love this poem and wanted to share it with you.


He always leaves the toilet seat up
and sometime's he's splashed
It must have been a woman
who invented the pedestal mat
An expression of an ironic protest
that is now essential furnishing
On waking, he makes the most bizarre noises
he sounds like a beached walrus belching
and blowing an off key trumpet
whilst revving up a Harley Davidson
Why is this so?
Why are there bristles in the basin?
And the untidiness
What does one sock on top of the ottoman mean?
Do you take this hurricane to be your
lawful wedded husband?
Is this him being himself?
Do I feel disillusioned?
Do I feel resentful and used?
Could he cope if I screamed at him?
Can any man ever take failure?
Am I nagging or am I pleading
for the real him to be him
and hold the real me?
Why can't he be vulnerable yet strong
at the same time?
precarious thing, Love.

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