Yet another two poems

So, greater community of blog-readers, how do you maintain that school-girl complexion amidst the arcane drudgeries of your daily existence?

TRUTH AND LOVE

Truth, I have read or heard somewhere,

Lives in a well. An unpleasant dwelling

But the rent is low and Truth most times

Admires the uncompromising frogs there

And can see the stars clearly, even at noon.

Love, a shepherd said, is usually found

Amongst the rocks on a barren shore

Bruising his feet continually

But aware of how well he looks

Tousled by the winds, staring at the water.

On Fifth and Main, on St. John’s Eve

They meet in a certain low bar.

Truth tries to pick up the waitress

Saying “You’re as pretty as others

I’ve seen in other bars” while Love

Swirls the liquor in his glass.

They do this every year and Truth

Never listens to his advice.

UNSETTLING YET ODDLY EXPECTED

A coin not of this realm found its way

(After adventures I cannot describe)

Into my pocket. It was of wood,

Something close-grained and very heavy,

And bore my picture, save that my nose

Had been broken and my left eye

Was gone. After three days my shadow

Showed clear signs of disaffection

Following me reluctantly or making

Curious quick gestures I could only half-see.

A week or so later other shadows

Startled and then knelt and in my dreams

Churches long gone to dust rebuilt themselves

And rang their bells backwards.