Tablets Of Jet

Poem By David Lewis Paget

You think that you only
Weep in remembering,
Nothing I’ve told you
Would hint at regret,
But I have the candle
We burnt at our offerings,
That wreathed its despairings
On tablets of jet.

I wrote and I rhymed you
By sky and by water,
I loved and desired you
In metre and song,
But needs seem to blind you,
Enrage, and remind you
That love is one garment
You’ve never put on.

You lost us forever
Then bled at our wounding,
Cast back every metre
Of love I had penned;
But sent me sad couplets
Composed by dead poets
That brood on disasters
Like us – in the end.

Now my wound is deeper
And my wound is wider,
I live with it always
And always it bleeds;
For lines of my poems
Are stubbed in your ashtrays
And songs of your goings
Are burnt on my reeds.

3 June 1992

Comments about Tablets Of Jet

This has to be one of the best poems I've had the pleasure of reading. Just the way you use your words and portray what you're talking about. You are an amazing poet!

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Other poems of PAGET

Swan Song

Her hair was as black as a starling's tail,
Her cheeks as pale as a swan,
Her eyes, like two slim moonstones, glowed
And her mouth was the Holy Grail.

On The Death Of My Father

My brain has turned to ash, and yes,
My mouth is dust,
And love is grief, and death is
But the loss of trust;

Black-Haired Girls

The black-haired girls are graceful, like gazelles,
Their haughty stares would strike a ‘lao wai' blind,
As they cruise on through streets, where rubbish spills,
Ignoring all, the poverty, the slime.

No-Name The Cat

The cat and I stare at the room
No-name the cat, the cat and I,
She stares at me, I at the gloom
The house lies still as a vaulted tomb.

Father & Son

There is the family photograph
That is your father’s face,
There is your father’s father
Grey-gathering years apace;

A Lover's Verse

A sylph is passing my threshold stair,
Drifting her fragrance through the vine,
Promising dreams of a never-could-be
From the loss and the lapse of a former time.