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Poems

ConnectHook Apr 2019
Here as I sit
At this empty café
Thinking of you
I remember
All those moments
Lost in wonder
That we'll never
Find again
Though the world
Is my oyster
It's only a shell
Full of memories
And here by the Seine
Notre-Dame casts
A long lonely shadow

Now, only sorrow
No tomorrow
There's no today for us
Nothing is there
For us to share
But yesterday

These cities may change
But there always remains
My obsession
Through silken waters
My gondola glides
And the bridge, it sighs

I remember
All those moments
Lost in wonder
That we'll never
Find again
There's no more time for us
Nothing is there
For us to share
But yesterdays

Ecce momenta
Illa mirabilia
Quae captabit
In aeternum
Memor
Modo dolores
Sunt in dies
Non est reliquum
Vero tantum
Comminicamus
Perdita


Tous ces moments
Perdus dans l'enchantement
Qui ne reviendront jamais
Pas d´aujourd´hui pour nous
Pour nous il n´y a rien
A partager
Sauf le passé

Tous ces moments
Perdus dans l'enchantement
Qui ne reviendront
Jamai
s
Roxy Music 1973

Written by Andrew Edwin Mackay Andrew Mackay
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Tom McCone  Jun 2014
floodbite
Tom McCone Jun 2014
all at once, things come crumbling
together. a step in every direction,
rightful empty dissolves to leave,
in stationary hollow, itself:
presented representation. no
point left unscathed. the exact
same moment the water started
leaking down and out the walls. a
series of equicardinal trackmarks in
the snow. over the bridge we shift
momenta. wheels turn. nerves
coupling. a flood laps at my
unfurling fingerprints. water
rises like swallows nesting in the
marsh of my throat. try as we might,
turn of position, matched glance, precession
after next, the swell silently engulfs the woodwork.

blood curls through these beds, as beautiful as the water running over;
waves distill through smaller wash.

a larger scheme spreads its lips. the teeth
play quotient to tree limbs. a schedule unwound.
caught the sun with smooth hooks.
everything changes from here, or stagnates at a
shifting viewpoint. but, from this glowing angle,
i could mistake you for ordinality or
plain daylight. i could
fall a little
further
down.

instead, all translates in bold motion,
binding fibers of dissolution,
morning hues
through the dark.
more nothing.