Past

July 8, 2011

When past refuses to stay in the past
the present weeps
and the future curls up and dies.

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xiv. I Believe

March 23, 2011

I believe in a thing called Time,
I believe in a past I can’t repeat,
I believe in a future I’m
not of the power to cheat.

I believe in a thing called Life,
I believe in here and now,
I believe that we’re alive,
to change the world somehow.

I believe in a thing called I,
I believe in mind and soul,
I believe that one should try,
To maintain self control.

I believe in a thing called Love,
I believe in you and me,
I believe Love is enough,
for two to live life happily.

 

 

Inspired by The Darkness’s ‘I Believe in a Thing Called Love’.

xxv. What Was Once

February 5, 2011

What was once,
Is not now,
And ’twill not be again.

Once it’s gone –
No mind how –
’twill never be the same.

 

 

Inspired by @MyWordWizard‘s prompt: “What was once…”

xxiii. Haunted

February 1, 2011

Sweeping the floor,
I find a reminder;
It’s long and black.
It shatters me;
It brings me to my knees.

This morning,
It was your lipstick mark,
Still on your coffee cup;
Last night,
It was your perfume,
Still on my pillow.

Now it’s this hair,
Lay as if in ambush,
Waiting for me,
To find it there,
That stops me,
In my tracks.

I cannot live this way,
With your ghost,
Haunting my apartment.
You dominate my dreams,
And you surround me,
When I am awake.

Even when I leave,
Your chewing gum’s,
Still in my car;
Your favourite song,
Is on my radio;
The seat’s reclined,
Just the way,
You liked it.

I’m haunted by,
My happiest memories –
Memories,
Of a time,
That was so perfect.
I have no nightmares,
When I sleep and yet,
Somehow this is worse.

These happy memories,
Surrounding me,
But always,
Out of reach;
They terrorise,
Tease,
Taunt me;
They’re driving me,
Insane.

I wake up in the night,
I’m sleeping on ‘my side’,
As though,
You’re still there.
I can’t roll over,
Because the cold,
Will tell me,
What I already know,
But cannot bear to feel.

Getting ready for work,
I pick my toothbrush up,
From beside yours.
Yours is the red one –
Your favourite colour.
You’ll never use it now,
But there it sits,
Defiant;
Staking it’s claim.

Sometimes,
Out of habit,
I still cook,
Too many eggs,
In the morning.
Yours go to the dog,
But it’s still enough,
To remind me.

I wonder,
When I will be exorcised,
Of these,
My happiest memories;
Memories of a happiness,
I can no longer bear.

 

 

Inspired by the following lyric:
“Got your lipstick mark/ Still on your coffee cup”
I’m not a fan of Take That, but that one line has always stood out to me as being somehow genius.

xxi. Old Flames

January 28, 2011

The first time I have seen you in so long,
Here on the street and you’re with him. We meet,
An awkward smile, a stuttered hug, a kiss,
On either cheek and then, of course, I shake,
His hand. A man’s handshake to counteract,
How weak and how inferior I feel.
As much as I would like, I can’t ignore,
Him. It would just be impolite. As much,
As I may hate him, simply ’cause he’s next,
To you, I’m nothing if not nice. I shake,
His hand and try to seem unbothered by,
His presence. What I wouldn’t give for just,
Five minutes like it used to be, just you,
And me and no one else. Five minutes like,
It used to be, Five minutes feeling like,
I’m all you need. Don’t you remember how,
You used to feel that way? How I was all,
You needed; All you thought you’d ever need?

I still don’t know what happened; How or why,
Things changed between us all that time ago,
And when I see you in the street, my heart,
Still skips and takes my breath from me, for just,
A beat. I wonder if you feel it too;
If, even though you walked away from me,
There’s something there inside you still, some deep
Connection that will never break because,
Of what we had back then. Some way in which,
We joined as one and will always remain.
Your smile gives absolutely nought away,
And for a moment I am terrified,
That you don’t want to speak to me, that I,
Am nothing but an inconvenient,
Reminder of a past you’d rather have,
Forgotten altogether. But your eyes;
Your eyes are warm, they burn right into me,
The face you try to keep indifferent,
Uncovered for the liar that it is,
By something in your eyes. There’s something there,
That reaches out and feels for me as I,
Come close. Your eyes look over me and seem,
To yearn for me in ways you can not let,
Your body show, and with that subtle glance,
I see you savour every inch of me.
I see regret form deep inside, I see,
How well you know the mistake that you made,
How well you know the life you could have had,
If only you had stayed here by my side.

And still I do not know what made you leave.
Our searching eyes send pleas across the void,
That lies between, policed by whomever,
You’re seeing now. We linger maybe just,
A second longer than we should and when,
We realise, your gaze drops quickly to,
The ground and mindless small talk takes the place,
Of all the million words we said in just,
A moment with our eyes. This guy you’re with,
Oblivious to what is going on.
Oblivious to flames relit; to old,
Affection given life a-new. We talk,
About our families, our jobs and “How,
Is Steve?” “You know, I haven’t seen him in,
So long.” But words mean nothing to us now,
For something’s happening between us now,
Some magic that we’d let ourselves forget,
Rekindles all the flames that we had let,
Be beaten down. I start to feel a pang,
Of guilt, or maybe it’s just pity, for,
The person standing by your side, his wide,
Uncomfortable grin not able to,
Conceal the deep uneasiness he feels,
At being stranded on the outskirts of,
Our conversation, with no way of joining in;
No common ground to help him break into,
The channel we have built across the void.

He stands there with his arms down by his side,
Just looking like a misplaced prop upon,
The stage of our reunion scene. Of course,
He doesn’t know what’s blossoming between,
Us. Actually, he thinks I seem quite dull.
He doesn’t realise that we almost,
Don’t even know what we’ve been speaking of,
The real conversation has no words;
We’re speaking just to hide the rhumba that,
We’re dancing in the space between us, right,
Here on the street. A dance that nobody
Can see but one that’s sending sparks from soul,
To soul. He shuffles on his feet, a poor,
Attempt at catching your attention, so,
That he can say “We don’t want to be late.”
But what he doesn’t realise is that,
Whatever plans they have have all been dropped,
Appointments cancelled right here on the street.
He might be going home with her, but they,
Are done. It’s almost sad that he can’t see,
That you’ve already broken up with him.

And yet, a part of me is hesitant.
You left me once, how can I know that you,
Won’t tear me up again; That you won’t just,
Get bored of me and throw me out again?
Through all the fire that burns between us, right,
here on the street, I feel a sudden chill.
It rushes up my spine and lunges for,
My heart, the same cold stab I felt back when,
You left. A flicker darts across my eyes,
It’s almost nonexistent but you see,
It take me down. And then I see in yours,
A flicker too. Remorse for what you did.
Our dance comes to a fumbled end, our form,
All gone. The wildfire that was roaring just,
Now barely smoulders on. The dream that we,
Were living in disperses and we’re left,
Here on the street lost deep in some banal,
Discussion about work, or weather, or…
Your guy’s still standing there uneasily,
His hands now in his pocket and he jolts,
Awake from day-dreaming as soon as we,
Begin that awkward waltz of rushed goodbyes.
And then, it’s done. I turn to walk away,
And you take up his hand and head off home.

He’ll never know how close to losing you,
He was. I’ll never know just how much you,
Regret the way you left, and you regret,
The way your leaving then just lost me once,
again right here. You’ll never know how much,
I hate the fear that’s driven me away,
From something I believe was meant to be.

xiv. Love Lost

January 18, 2011

Can nothing in the shadows shine? Like polished crystal in the dark —
Reflections ambushed; dull and bleak — the memories of broken hearts,
Their features blurred, like photos bleached, fade quickly into yesterday,
As stories told of romance past, with facts replaced and details lost,
Recount a love once held so dear as nothing more than fleeting fun.

Can nothing in the daylight hide? My lies, so intricately spun,
A spider’s web on wintry dawn: Clever yet not good enough.
A stutter or a nervous smile, the tell-tale flash of icy white,
A cold betrayal, warning all that come across it not to stray.
Thus I am left without; My fleeing prey, the love that I so thrive.

I’ve loved before and I’ve been loved, but now, my lovers gone, my heart,
Has scratched their names from pages in the journals of my memory.
I try to go back to that time; to picture myself in those days;
To see the faces of my past and tell them how they ‘mean the world;’
They’re ‘Everything to me,’ alas what’s gone is gone, and is no more.

So here I’m left to try again; to search the world for love anew,
And try to find what once I had; to fill the void that now resides,
But I already know too well I’ll never find that place again.
And I can never keep the lie that I’m in love alive for long;
I cannot make the words seem real, and soon I’m on my own again.

vii. The Lake

January 7, 2011

The young man’s idle thoughts begin to drift,
As he lies snoozing in the Summer breeze.
His daydream brings him to a lake, adrift,
Through calm cool waters underneath the trees.

It’s such a long time since he came down here,
And yet his memory remains unchanged.
He used to sit and write songs on the pier,
Before he and his love became estranged.

Before they fell apart, the lake was theirs.
It felt to them like an entire world.
Down at the lake they forgot their despairs.
Down at the lake a million dreams unfurled.

The still green reservoir seemed so remote,
As if God made it for them to explore.
She sat beside him in the wooden boat;
His oars sent ripples out toward the shore.

They’d lie together on their private strand,
With branches stretched above like nature’s eaves.
They’d stay that way for hours, hand in hand,
Just listening to wind dance through the leaves.

The icy water lapping at their toes,
They’d hold each other close and plan their lives,
Back then not once did they suppose,
That what they had would maybe not survive.

But now those days are long since left behind,
And days, weeks, months, so many years have passed.
It’s true that sometimes she crosses his mind;
He never did quite let go of that past.

 

His memories of her are weak at best;
He never really sees her face these days.
At most he conjures up her silhouette,
The details lost to Time’s uncaring haze.

Sometimes at night he’ll glimpse her chocolate eyes,
Or wake to flashes of her moistened lips;
He’ll swear he hears the echo of her sighs,
Or feels her body pressed against his hips.

But morning casts a shadow over her,
A curtain through which she can not be reached,
What memories he’s found begin to blur,
Like photographs the spiteful sun has bleached.

But there is one thing he remembers well,
One memory that time will never take,
One thing forgetfulness can not dispel
He knows that he will always have the lake.

He never dares to go there anymore,
Incase it is not as it used to be;
It needs to stay just like it was before –
He only walks its banks in memory.