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“The Things I Ask Myself” by Rob MacWolf
Today’s poem is “The Things I Ask Myself,” by Rob MacWolf, who after all, if he expects anyone else to contribute, ought to be willing to do his part as well. You can find him in When the World Was Young from the Furry Historical Fiction Society, and you can find more of his stories and poems on his SoFurry page.
Read by the poet.
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Transcript
You’re listening to Poetry Month on The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:Today’s poem is “The Things I Ask Myself,”
Speaker:by Rob MacWolf, who after all, if he expects anyone else to contribute,
Speaker:ought to be willing to do his part as well.
Speaker:You can find him in When the World Was Young
Speaker:from the Furry Historical Fiction Society,
Speaker:and you can find more of his stories and poems
Speaker:on his SoFurry page.
Speaker:Read by the poet.
Speaker:Please enjoy “The Things I Ask Myself”,
Speaker:a poem by Rob MacWolf
Speaker:I ask myself, how is it I have come, Still so far from the sunset of my days,
Speaker:(I pray tis not yet sunset on my days,)
Speaker:Unto some chamber in the maze of life Where it is possible to hear you say
Speaker:'I miss you' and 'I feel your absence in The times when just
Speaker:to have you close nearby Would bring me rest from grieving.'
Speaker:(Sunset knows How much indeed I need rest from grieving.)
Speaker:Not lust, not appetite, not anything
Speaker:That narrow press-lipped matrons warned against,
Speaker:But only that you want me by your side.
Speaker:I ask myself, how is it I have met, Still nowhere near the sunset of my days,
Speaker:(And if this be the sunset of my days, I pray the sunset last for decades yet,)
Speaker:With that rare breed of love that
Speaker:poets would Have you believe is something only glimpsed But once in a millennium, if that.
Speaker:The kind that is an ever fix'd mark
Speaker:Yet does not mind when I am less than fixed,
Speaker:Yet still is thrilled
Speaker:when I am fixed again.
Speaker:That when I once had nowhere else to turn (The sunset knows, not very long ago)
Speaker:No one to care that I should live or die, It, by so caring,
Speaker:unexpectedly, Reminded me
Speaker:—this is what life feels like.
Speaker:This is a home. And this a family.
Speaker:And all these things are not exclusively Reserved for other people. You as well
Speaker:Shall pass through these before you pass the gates Of utter west,
Speaker:and in the sunset rest.
Speaker:(I pray that when I to that sunset pass I find your path continues by my side.)
Speaker:I ask myself, how much you asked yourself,
Speaker:For I have not the heart to ask you plain, (But, sunset knows, must hide it in a verse,)
Speaker:How long, oh lord, how long did you endure?
Speaker:You knew, I know, the windless desert air
Speaker:Where sun is cruelty, and never sets,
Speaker:And teaches but one lesson
Speaker:—Nobody Ever will help you,
Speaker:ever will defend.
Speaker:Did you despair as deeply as did I?
Speaker:Was it as much impossibility For you,
Speaker:when that intolerable sun Proved one day to be setting,
Speaker:as for me? (I prayed for sunset long before I knew There was such thing as sunset.)
Speaker:If I traced With disbelieving fingers all the scars That cruelty and caution long since etched Across your nerves,
Speaker:would I find them a match
Speaker:For those that throb upon my hands and side?
Speaker:I do not ask myself, if I deserve,
Speaker:Who knows how near the sunset of my life
Speaker:(And if this were the sunset, I would be Content with such a sunset to my life,)
Speaker:To have you. It may be that I do not.
Speaker:There's no 'deserve' to gentle rain,
Speaker:or sound Of trees against the wind,
Speaker:or candlelight In winter, or the distant salt sea smell.
Speaker:What pedant hypocrite would think to ask
Speaker:"Do you deserve the air?"
Speaker:I have the air. I have the smell of sea.
Speaker:I have the flame On winter nights. I have the sound of trees.
Speaker:I have soft blessed rain.
Speaker:(And sunset knows I have, all undeserving,
Speaker:the sunset.) Whatever else you ask yourself, my love,
Speaker:Ask not if you deserve me by your side.
Speaker:I often ask myself,
Speaker:when others come
Speaker:After has passed the sunset of our days
Speaker:(Not even sunset knows who they shall be,)
Speaker:And we are gone, what archeology,
Speaker:What mastery of lore, what history,
Speaker:Could make them understand what you and I Once built here, for eachother?
Speaker:What traces Do such as you and I leave by the way—
Speaker:No family name, no bloodline,
Speaker:no heirloom, No genealogy, no monuments.
Speaker:(I pray the sunset, one day to accept Me of his bloodline, but that does not count.)
Speaker:What kind of breadcrumb trail could lead the eyes Of future ages, in the maze of life, To find the chambers where I was with you?
Speaker:A dog collar, too many worn-out shoes,
Speaker:Some soda cans, some scraps of poetry.
Speaker:If they can guess, from these, the kind of life And home and family you were to me, They're wiser far than any age before.
Speaker:But then, I ask myself,
Speaker:what do I care? I do not live for them.
Speaker:I live for you. When you shall say
Speaker:that just to have me near Would bring you rest from grieving, let me be At once and without question by your side
Speaker:From now until the sunset of my days.
Speaker:And aye, beyond. (May sunset will it so.)
Speaker:This was “The Things I Ask Myself”
Speaker:by Rob MacWolf, read by the poet.
Speaker:Thank you for listening
Speaker:to Poetry Month on The Voice
