Two poems by Stephen Grant
"Missed Opportunity" and "In No Time"
Missed Opportunity
Seen through foggy lenses, we can still feel the moment when we knew it was there: for the wanting, the asking, even the taking. Maybe pheromones, maybe cosmic connections, but doubtless, random notes at play. Or just another afternoon in the funhouse, a carousel of riotous chance and missed opportunity, hands fiercely grabbing at the elusive brass ring, riveted by the spin of the roulette wheel— always bet on red—of space and languid air, shorn of electrons. Still, I’m not sure what to make of it all, the dashing and derring-do, like a deranged Zorro, absent his sword. No slashed Zs here. In the end, though, curled toes are all that matter, even more than the murmur of “I love you” in a lover’s ear. It’s at least a glimpse of a heaven we’ll never otherwise see, let alone keep, not in this life anyway.
In No Time
We plane the corners from the clouds, replete with imagination. Freed from the wooden trestles and the false hopes, we trudge along, laughably for naught. No talismanic icons, no rabbits’ feet on cheap chains, no Tarot card images, only flashes of chance that make no difference, like Schrödinger’s cat, alive and dead. (Poor thing!) We’ll all share that ultimate indignity, trapped by a deepfake into oblivion, the final coda. Surely, it’s time to recast our narrative as, it turns out, we can’t escape the inescapable. We’re snookered and always have been. Even when held to the light, our love is abstract, a shimmering frisson, shorn of colour and contour. So, if you want to revel in the way you’ve cheated us, know that we’ll forever be a kink in your shadow, leaving nothing to design, everything to random tumbling, forging illumination as best we can, while seeking clarity from the middle distance, a stone’s throw of doubt, living in illusions in a barren universe of fools, and to be sure, it’s much too late for praying.
About the Poet:
Stephen Grant is a writer and poet, turning to this endeavor after a lengthy professional career. His work has now been published in over a dozen literary/poetry journals. He lives in Toronto with his spouse and Maine coon cat, Felix.