A teacher

What he wanted to teach me,
was written with his blood,
he died for me to learn,
what he could not bear.
He begged for love,
in streets abandoned,
where only the pale gestures
of nothingness would echo.
He couldn’t decode it,
he couldn’t breathe and in his breathless farewell,
he became a teacher.
A sailor without a boat,
without a destination.

~ by Aquatic Poetry on June 3, 2010.

2 Responses to “A teacher”

  1. Such an interesting verse..at times it had almost a religous overtone of the crucifixion..not sure because final lines…enjoyed thinking about your poem.

  2. Thank you for stopping by.
    I knew that this one could be mistaken as religious.
    Writing for me is a way to release the past , present and thoughts. This poem in particular is something very personal and not religious, though I enjoy the duality of meanings, and playing with “godly” matters.
    Enjoy the night. Malene

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