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This is a selection from our archive of poetry, each written by a member of the diaTribe, and published here on the diaTribe Web by PM Productions. This is a bold move on the part of our contributing authors, each of whom are publishing their work gratis, each of whom you may contact via an email address following their respective submission. Support them by telling them what you think - or, at the very least, don't nick their stuff.

Sunday

I saw his car today
Early morning, far too early,
While I drove in distraction
To the house of other friends.
But I discovered, in raw wonder
(after the first rapid heartbeats
settled into my heaving chest),
That I suddenly felt clarity
About our decayed and decaying
Imposed immortality.
I was so convinced
That you were THE ONE --
And then

I saw his car today
Early morning, far too early,
Still, impossibly clear thoughts
Cleared my clumsy mind.
Although my slumbering heart
Still shrieks with nightmares
Of sharing you, my deepest love,
With any other,
And I sleep without peace,
My waking mind sighed understanding
That I must have been
Only a diversion, because

I saw his car today
Early morning, far too early,
Then I spent hell's hard minutes battling,
Pushing away cold, shattering images
Of you with another. But yet,
Better for me to believe
That you went back to him
Then forward to a stranger.

I saw his car today
Early morning, far too early,
And eventually I felt better
Hoping you were no longer crying.
...Angels should not cry...
"Till death do us part,
Or, till parts of us do die,
We will remain glorious."

...this we did, and did well...

...by the founder of PM Productions, Barry Parham.
First published by the diaTribe - June 2001

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