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When you walked out the pub doors On a sea of tears and last embraces, The town stood still. You broke my heart, Set it back into place So that I could feel again. I was amongst the grown men Turning backs on each other, Wrangling our hair, Pacing the floor, Until we could not hold back The occasion any longer. I know when my plane comes There will be brief handshakes, Warm, worn smiles Fastened from the heat You gave so generously To a town that grew cold In your departure. You taught us that kindness is enough. Now rejoicing in private sobs, Return of feeling for someone else. This town we complained about, Until you moved each man to song. French lessons over the ashtray, Anecdotes and private jokes As far as the ear could hear. I remember when the chemicals took over And you danced in the sunglass shade Of a darkened room. Your energy bounced off the walls, A pink-noise that echoed as I came down, Nestled on my shoulder, totemic, As I fought the speed, tried to sleep. Beer bottles remained, the splintered ends That serve as proof for last night’s fireworks. You always made sure we were safe. Our chance encounter, Brief moments which collide, Leaving marks, Etching names Onto stone that cannot wear away. You taught me that sea of strangers Is not a place to drown, Just an avenue towards new land. You could drink all the time And it would not consume you. Get stuck on a blue mood And still leave your slumber, Wide-eyed and hopeful for balance. You left us standing in the rain Our minds a roulette wheel, Scattering between goodbye and farewell. I guess I did not understand the stakes Until you walked out of those pub doors. I guess I had forgotten what loss meant, Those years running from the blade of love That cuts so finely the line Of grief and glory. I am bleeding here. I am not sure when it will stop. I am feeling again. Thank you, friend. Thank you.
0
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 4:37 PM UTC
Maud
When you walked out the pub doors On a sea of tears and last embraces, The town stood still. You broke my heart, Set it back into place So that I could feel again. I was amongst the grown men Turning backs on each other, Wrangling our hair, Pacing the floor, Until we could not hold back The occasion any longer. I know when my plane comes There will be brief handshakes, Warm, worn smiles Fastened from the heat You gave so generously To a town that grew cold In your departure. You taught us that kindness is enough. Now rejoicing in private sobs, Return of feeling for someone else. This town we complained about, Until you moved each man to song. French lessons over the ashtray, Anecdotes and private jokes As far as the ear could hear. I remember when the chemicals took over And you danced in the sunglass shade Of a darkened room. Your energy bounced off the walls, A pink-noise that echoed as I came down, Nestled on my shoulder, totemic, As I fought the speed, tried to sleep. Beer bottles remained, the splintered ends That serve as proof for last night’s fireworks. You always made sure we were safe. Our chance encounter, Brief moments which collide, Leaving marks, Etching names Onto stone that cannot wear away. You taught me that sea of strangers Is not a place to drown, Just an avenue towards new land. You could drink all the time And it would not consume you. Get stuck on a blue mood And still leave your slumber, Wide-eyed and hopeful for balance. You left us standing in the rain Our minds a roulette wheel, Scattering between goodbye and farewell. I guess I did not understand the stakes Until you walked out of those pub doors. I guess I had forgotten what loss meant, Those years running from the blade of love That cuts so finely the line Of grief and glory. I am bleeding here. I am not sure when it will stop. I am feeling again. Thank you, friend. Thank you.
This is a poem I wrote about a friend I made for half a year or so. She was French, teaching in the UK for around a year before going back. She left at the end of May on a sea of tears and it took me several days before the gloom of her departure left me. This isn't a love poem, more a gushing poem about friends. I have lived a very isolated life in the last couple years, and on her leaving, I re-discovered just how important others are. It really affected me. Anyway, this is a poem I wrote once I had got home that night. It's not finished and it needs some work. C
Edward-Coles
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26/M/English
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 4:37 PM UTC
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