Painting by Franz Xaver Petter‘Et In Arcadia Ego’ and Other Poetry by Michael Coy The Society January 21, 2020 Beauty, Humor, Poetry 5 Comments Et In Arcadia Ego Oh, that’s it, Keko. Pass through. Go ahead. Just walk across my books without a glance, with all that arrogant insousiance of yours, encoded in that languid tread. No, never mind that I’ve been up all night engrossed in them. What now? So why the pause? Ah, now I see. You might retract your claws in expectation of a fondle-fight. What must it be, to live a life by whim, to eat, to sleep, to gambol, amble, bask as humour takes you, never think to ask of costs or consequences, to never trim or balance, need to tack, or double back. There’s no-one holding you to strict account. You waste your time guilt-free, don’t have to mount defence or mitigation. If you lack the cares and burdens of my tedious chores, perhaps there’s something else you’ll never own —a subtle thing called purpose, which alone gives point to my percentages and scores. Don’t look so smug for landing on all fours! This ledger’s done. I know I have to die, and that’s my tragedy. You, pumpkin pie, don’t have a clue what’s coming. And that’s yours. Before I Saw Your Face Before I knew your name, you spoke to me. Before I learned the contours of your face, or came to know your talents, or the place you call your home, you’d touched me lastingly. Before I understood your shifting moods, or pressed against your skin, or heard you weep, you were already in me, buried deep. This never was some shallow interlude. I loved you though I’d never heard your voice or stroked your hair. It was just meant to be. In some unknowable realm we made our choice, without recourse to hand, or heart, or eye, for these are carnal things, which fade and die. And I have loved you for eternity. Barrister, teacher and journalist, Michael Coy is an Irish poet who has settled permanently in the south of Spain. He readily admits to a serious rhyme-and-rhythm habit. Winner of various poetry prizes in Britain and Ireland, Michael has been published fairly regularly in the British poetry journal, ”Orbis.” NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 5 Responses William Glyn-Jones January 21, 2020 Good poem. Nice. Jealous of a pet who doesn’t have to do its accounts. I like it. Oscar Wilde reference at the end. Ultimately a reflection of human emotions and projections – trying to find some reason to feel better than your pet! (-: Reply Paul Oratofsky January 21, 2020 Both of these are well done and interesting. “Fondle-fight” is adorable. I would have, in the last line of stanza 3 of your first poem, written “of cost or consequence” instead of using the plural, for the meter’s sake, but this is a minor nitpicking. Jolly good show. Reply William Glyn- Jones January 21, 2020 Good idea – I was think drop the “to” from that line for the same reason – but your suggestion is better Reply C.B. Anderson January 21, 2020 Michael, These poems were subtle, and I appreciate that. They crept up and attacked me from behind. Scat! In regard to the second poem, I wondered whether the paramour was the same person I’ve been dating for all these many years. If so, I apologize, and I hope you will not challenge me to a duel. Reply William Glyn-Jones January 22, 2020 Et in Arcadia because of the reminder of death, although giving it that title makes it all seem a little serious, whereas the Wilde reference is actually the light touch. After all: “Is that clever?” “It is perfectly phrased! and quite as true as any observation in civilized life should be.” Great poem though. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.