Now and then
you talk to me straight
addressing my black depths.
You raise my trust
You give my flame of life
a swirl of oxygen.
This time I was about to retreat
under abandonment
and pretentious insightfulness.
About to dress me in cheap fabric,
camouflaging myself
behind pompous layers of logic.
Göran Stille 
My favourite phrases: “you talk to me straight/addressing my black depths” and “You give my flame of life/a swirl of oxygen.”
I love this poem. Haven’t we all been there? I have, too many times to count. Nearly every dang day. And it takes so much for me not to retaliate – likely to something that doesn’t even exist, other than in my own mind – except I don’t go into pompous layers of logic – I tend go into hell and high waters. And then I close the door.
That’s just me, though. :))
Good poem, friend.
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Oh Goran, I like this, it is real poetry!
Could you extend it further?
For instance, what happens in the black depths, or how do you swim back out?
Dr. Bob
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Thank you theholodoc. No, I can´t extend it further. At this moment I do not want to. It is too risky. I might easily slide into abstract speculations and theory. It is tempting but I have decided to hold my horses.
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