Three Poems by Steen W. Rasmussen

THE UNBEARABLE TRUTH 

 

Back in the day  

before the Lower Paleolithic 

when—unlike today— 

intelligence was high and abundant  

self-aware Cyanobacteria  

Plantae, and Animalia  

engaged in a lively debate  

within, and across, species  

about the Meaning of Life  

 

A million lines of inquiry— 

examined and evidenced 

A trillion points of view— 

expressed and explored 

all led to one inescapable conclusion 

the horrific understanding, that: 

 

There is no meaning  

beyond survival and procreation 

 

Faced with the utter absurdity of it all 

and—as a result— 

being at risk of going insane 

all biological life— 

first bacteria, then Plantae  

followed by Animalia— 

dialed down consciousness  

or abandoned it altogether  

 

Save for one primate 

who—alone and afraid— 

still works feverishly to pass  

the burden of existence  

on to an entity  

of its own making  

be it im- or material 

before it's too late

‘COME WHAT MAY’ 

 

If I lie down now 

I fear I'm going to die 
It's a bedtime trepidation 

from my childhood 

in consequence of 

an obsessive neurosis 

 

I close my eyes 

to the sound of 

Jesse Cook's guitar 

The couch starts  

slowly spinning 

 

It calms me down 

 

When I open my eyes again 

the living room looks the same 

The cats are sleeping 

on the bookshelf 

and in a cardboard box 

Jesse's on a loop 

a mellow tune repeating 

 

I turn on my computer 

There are no notifications 

No one's responded 

to any of my posts 

 

I hear you in the kitchen 

preparing dinner 

 

I talk to you 

but you don't answer 

I touch your shoulder 

You don't look up 

When I wave a hand 

you seem to see right through it 

and onto the cutting board 

 

Then I realize: This is it 

 

This is the moment I'll be reliving  

forever 

With one cat on the bookshelf 

The other in a cardboard box 

You, in the kitchen 

chopping the same onion 

again, and again 
 

Notifications have ended 

My posts are ghosts 

My friends are reachable no more 

 

And Jesse Cook will be playing 

'Come What May' 

over and over 

for all eternity

THGIR OT TFEL  

 

Eyes ride each line like driftwood on a bumpy sea 

Now this line, followed by 

this one—moving left to right, across and  

down 

Left to right, across and—whoops! 

Here we go again  

 

You’re riding a nice wave, but then it ends 

So, you jump and start again 

Back  

and down, to ride a new one, but soon 

you have to jump again 

And again 

And again 

And again  

Half the world does it this way 

The other half, the same in reverse 

Both are tedious and wasteful 

 

eb dluow ti retteb hcum woh enigamI 

If we learned to read in both directions 

snoitpurretni gnirraj erom oN 

No more strenuous jumps, and sometimes 

ekatsim yb eciwt enil emas eht gnidaeR 

Instead, a smooth rocking motion 

thgir ot tfel morf gnisiurC 

Then right to left 

niaga thgir ot tfel gnisiurC 

Right to left 

ynomrah ni taob a ekiL 

With the sea, at optimal speed 

ycneiciffe mumixam htiw dnA 

Isn’t it nice? 

 

 

Steen W. Rasmussen is a native of Denmark and lives in New York City. His interest in writing, and writing in English specifically, is rooted in many years of songwriting. His poetry has been published in various journals and forums, including Lothlorien, Sparks of Calliope, Voices of Poetry, and Woodside Writers.