It is memories not a paycheck, I seek (Poem)

 

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(Photo by: Dương Trần Quốc)

 

I’ve never been a reality man

A concrete man

A man of business

Practical things, though important I’m sure

Have never interested me more than a day

And when on the rare occasions I thought such things

I found myself tired easily

And bored rather quickly

My eyes finding the nearest cloud to gaze upon

I’m a dreamer man

Some rude persons would call me a flake

Our worlds too far apart to be understood

For as they count their hours by dollar signs

And dates for meetings, shaking hands in greeting

I’ve always counted moments as waypoints

This one down now onto the next

I live for the soft sighing of trees and the feel of Autumns first chill

For pleasure in the crescendo of a tenor voice of a well-loved song

The emotion of it all

The pleasure of passions first thrill

I’m irresponsible with money, I don’t like social gatherings although social graces come naturally to me

You may be rich, well endowed, with a fine home and linens Egyptian with thousands thread count

But if emotion isn’t there, if passion doesn’t burn you, what good are you, really, to me?

If you can taste what I taste and see what I see

My darling, if you could be so cavalier

Then perhaps your business would be simply a place you go to and not a person you think you ought to be

Yet perhaps I’m all wrong, and not being able to be more wrong, you hold the real meaning of life in your clockwork world

Yet as the world goes by I’ll count the moments not time

For its  memories not a paycheck, I seek