Unheard Melodies

by Christos Polydorou

wpid-img_20150307_133642.jpgI.

I.

I was filled
with the desire
to reach you. I was
compelled with the urge
to talk to you. I was
pining to communicate
everything to you,

because you were a pretty
thing, such a
pretty thing,
and when I looked into
your empty
blue eyes

I could sight the skies
in you and me, and
hear the birds
sing on the wing,
something I had never

known. John Keats wrote:
Heard melodies
are sweet, but
those unheard
Are sweeter. That

is what I sought in you,
to capture those unheard
melodies, that even after
three hundred years
still exist, here,

in modern London,
today; oh London, a touch
of dystopia, a touch
of utopia, in my eyes
and in my coffee cup, the one
with the robin on it. London

you provided the setting
for my greatest life lessons.
What did I know?
What portrait of an artist?
What young man?
I lost him to idiocy,
fair muse,

I could no longer
take the abuse
of the wrong goddess
of beauty
in my room.
Beauty is

though even the urn of him
is gone, I can still hear those
unheard melodies
stirring

in my soul. I.

I.

I.

 

 

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