the other

the other
‘Je est un autre’, Arthur Rimbaud

the clock, the well, the water-wish, the other we are & far from

rolled onto my side
looking for the clock face
in the dark almost dawn
where everything dances
in the hold of its shape

knew someone there
sleeping as me in
my limbs my waking
in the static of the
dark tuning in on
the light

that other who
takes on all my
posture of dreaming,
of bone propped
along the paths
of its going

who takes the
pain apart like
peeling a stalk
of grass grown
long in a field
that had been
a front lawn

the other who
looks up at
the rigging of
voyage on a
swell with the
helmsman’s oar
levered star deep

the other
who’ll die in
my place
leaving space
for me to sit in
on the final cut
of the deck
the other
who’ll break
into my hands
the moment
it stops, the
dawn sky
to frost.

july 2012

Copyright © 2021 Peter Le Baige. All Rights Reserved

The music is from a performance by oboist Albrecht Mayer with Hélène Grimaud on piano of the first of Robert Schumann’s ‘Drei Romanzen’, Opus 94.


2 thoughts on “the other”

    1. HI Dean, I’ve often wondered if I can define what the ‘other’ actually is. I have thought this might be about the difference between ‘I’ as accumulated experience, ‘I’ as the construct of memories, and the ‘I’ purely as a referential point of the moment, on the crest of time, but not, as opposed to the other ‘i’, in time’s stream. But really, I don’t know… it’s just a feeling that comes in aging.


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