The Couple at Cape Town

In queue, with a
pair of bags housing
my portable life and my
windows turned beyond,
I wait, encapsulated by
my fellows of blood and journey.

Fluorescent, the putrid
taste of expected formality
settles upon me as I
chafe about chafing under
the tiredness of warmth,
buffeted by harsh jets of
air and ambiance.

Then apart from me
There whispers a soft wailing,
A swan's tears into the winds,
Silence and resolute exhaustion
Greeting that final realization
Of Farewell.

And as under the harsh
normalcy of stinking light
the epic of anguish unfolds,
I stare, agape and
sickeningly proud;
As beauty sunders
The Homely,
These clipp'd Wings
Illuminate the sky
- with Color,
rich and pure.

As I later ascend
into my home amidst the clouds,
I am still washed in purity
Unending.

Benjamin Finkel,
March 5, 2008

That is a powerful memory, right there. We were in Cape Town, as a family, last summer. When we were at the airport heading to Windhoek waiting to go through security, Aaron and I noticed a very beautiful couple who were separating from each other, the man leaving on our flight and the woman staying behind. There was an anguish in both of them that, as you can see, still has an effect on me. The thing was, both of them were so dignified - the woman's tears were quiet, the longing, regret, and fear in her eyes so pure and powerful; the man's silence was almost comforting in its conformity to the needs of the situation, his feigned certainty so convincing. Even as I saw love - obvious, true, and undoubted love - get torn apart, I felt (beside the pity) an asymmetric comfort; to me, the situation proved that love is possible, and can exceed even my highest expectations.

Evidence like that is hard to come by. The rest of the trip was, of course, brilliant, and I expect to write about other memories at some point. But seeing as thoughts on love, relationships, and trust have been sieging my mind recently, I felt that writing this now would give me a good perspective on things. I feel it has.

What's interesting, though, is that afterwards, Aaron asked me, "So what did you think of that little soap opera back there?" My quiet rage had to be stilled as I explained to him my thoughts on the event. Even when we are so alike, out differences can be staggering.

Ben

About the Axel, Part II

In quantized continuity
The shadow passes over
The enumeration
Of deeds and falling
And the presence dwells
Over the closest, longest
Sweeping swiftly over
The far.

Ben Finkel
Wednesday, February 27

Right, so that was late. I'm noticing that my inspiration skyrockets at Theatre guild meetings. Maybe because I have chalkboard access there. Writing on paper, for some reason, isn't as solid to me - it's more of a place for scattered half-sentences regarding fact, not complete visions of patterns which form perception. Or whatever it is I write about.

Hung out with old friends - yeesh, that's weird to say - on Saturday. Saw Jumper, which is a total crap movie, but has pretty teleportation effects, then we played Nintendo games, talked about life, and watched videos on the You-Tubs. Jacob's going to Colorado next year - good for him but it still makes me a bit sad as such. Hopefully we'll still find times to hang out.

There might be a part three, a counterpoint to this part's argument. I kind of regret not doing this one as a single-thrust poem. Dividing it, while a new experience, definitely makes this ring as a set of dinky poems rather than a decent, serious one. But maybe that's part of the message. Who knows? - it's art.

Ben