Much to my horror, I found out that I inadvertently posted what should remain a draft. The would-be post was supposed to be about the tarpaulin posters at the side and front of Star Minimart which had something to do with court cases and right-of-ways, which reminded me of the long-disputed land in front of Vega Arcade on which now stands Vega Centre. I wanted to describe how the flow of human traffic was back then in that area of Grove.
In lieu of that premature post, I am installing yet another Derek Walcott poem. There seems to be a spate of Walcott poems posted in sites I frequent. Nothing too significant about that, except that, like the first poem I posted, this comes, yet again, too close to the matters of the human heart.
The Fist (Derek Walcott)
The fist clenched round my heart
loosens a little, and I gasp
brightness; but it tightens
again. When have I ever not loved
the pain of love? But this has moved
past love to mania. This has the strong
clench of the madman, this is
gripping the ledge of unreason, before
plunging howling into the abyss.
Hold hard then, heart. This way at least you live.
(first read in Ian Casocot’s The Spy in the Sandwich – eatingthesun.blogspot.com)
