The Pedestrians

When will we realize
that fears and insecurities
are imperfect signs of 
a latent goodness
that lead us
to empathy?

Because you had 
not sinned,
I thought you were good.
You were not good.
You were fearful,
unimaginative,
moral,
young. 

Those who think
themselves superior
are in fact, inferior.
Who said that,
Pythagoras?
Regardless,
I caution you.
Like judges
who only follow 
other judges rules,
they can only follow;
their’s is a borrowed
conviction.

My dreams keep 
my ear pressed
to hallowed ground,
that I should be first
to hear
the rumblings of hooves
in the event of
my own private
apocalypse.

But for now,
the rarity of last night’s
pleasant dream
has caused me 
to retrace my steps.
I hadn’t more or less to drink.
No undigested bit of meat.
I hadn’t watched a particularly
potent film before bed.
But dreams aren't
made of facts,
though the fact
that I dream
gives the world 
such invaluable weight.

Clocks stop at 12:00,
So let us consider 13:00.

I don’t know 
if you’ll receive this 
or even respond. 
Poetry is hardly earth shaking
until it is. 
But I did want 
to say not to worry.
There’s nothing 
for you here. 
Only the
existential musings 
of a 
poetic heretic. 
Nothing you would relate to 
or appreciate. 
I’ve learned over the years 
that when people close doors 
by way of inexperience 
and judgements
they seal themselves off 
from discovering
what's truly vital
in the world. 

Even so,
I hope you find your
long sought-for pleasures 
(sensual or otherwise) 
rewarding 
and your judgements 
protect you 
from the unmistakable stain
of enlightenment. 
Stay safe and above the fray! 
For Truth and Beauty 
are typically
the first and last
lovers
to be 
relinquished.


Peter Valentyne
February 10th, 2020