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Sjr1000  May 2014
1969
Sjr1000 May 2014
It's a sad tale
It's true
It happened to me
Don't tell anyone, please.

Darcy was a fifteen year old
runaway
1969
Came to San Francisco
that
was the place.

The most beautiful girl
I had ever seen
but
then I was only 19.

A different story
a different tale
Hugh Hefner
had given her
a flirting stare.
Just to let you know
how beautiful she might have been.

I lived on Homer Lane
Darcy and I, of course
lovers became.
She moved right on in.

As young lovers often do
3 months is 3 years
and
Darcy flew off to Wycoff
to see her crazy parents
he had built a wall
blown down by the wind
she dressed like Anthony Quinn.

As young lovers often do
three weeks later
I followed her
just to
see what we
were going to do.

The next thing I knew
we
were living on 12th Street
across from the New School.
Jimi Hendrix
down the block
screaming guitar jamming
from his fourth floor apartment
we'd all stop and listen.

I was going to
Gerdy's Folk City
singing my version
of my own written
Bob Dylan songs.

Darcy was putting
Huey Newton posters
on our rent controlled apartment
front door.
Somebody kept ripping them off
She added more layers.

Needless to say
we were evicted the next day
as young lovers often are.

It was summer
Woodstock came
Darcy bought us tickets
to
get us in the game.

I was working as a copywriter
writing movie ads
Every father's daughter is a ******
that
wasn't one of mine.
My claim to fame
for a short time running
trending you might say
"Up Madison Avenue"
a girl dancing on the top of a fist.

Darcy
had an ill fated
voyage to France
to
smuggle hash.
I
almost got us busted
at
the airport
Darcy's friend
who bought the plane ticket
hadn't told her about the ******
he
took the hash
and
was coming back.
We
never saw him again.

1969

As young lovers often do

We met at 5pm
at
the Port Authority
on
a Friday summer night

There were a lot of people
jammed together
knocked around
really tight
pivot point
it wasn't all right
claustrophobic bound

You know the drill

Heart pounding
hands tingling
sweating
hyperventilating to.

What would you have said
what do you think you would do?

"I gotta get out a here.
Let's go to the movies instead. "

She was very kind
went
and saw
Putney Swope
Up Madison Avenue.
The city was empty.
I
thought
I heard a pin drop
in
that warm summer night
in
New York City.

The very next morning
Darcy
was gone
Woodstock bound.
I was watching bowling
and
thinking something profound.

Two things left
to say:

will this shame
ever
go
away

And
guess who didn't
keep
his *******
ticket.
Today is the 45th Anniversary
8/15.
"My boy" you told me
"Some will come close to understanding"
But none truly ever will
The pain is a burden
Hurled into being
By a history in which we have no sway
Of elders and ancestors,
common trace
Buried deep in our blood
And The wounds
In an indifferent bandage
You WILL understand in time
That you must be your own shaman
Whisper to your soul the song
That soothes,
The healing touch,
SING OUT
The sorrow that aches,
And make harmony with what you know to be true
And for those that dont understand...
Be patient,
Their wounds not as deep
Their affliction still undetected,
Show them in the light of your broken halo
That good exists within the hollow home of unsettling night,
Only than will you truly understand,
"My boy" you said
None understand, but i do
I imagine Darcy on the cliffs, beyond which the sea,
his blonde hair, so now so very, in his eyes so that he has to tip
to see
everyone and everything more than two feet tall
which is a lot.


Mostly I imagine my joy at seeing my son
older.  i don't know why that is thrilling.  
to think of the man in him emerging more and more
until it reaches a tipping point

but now that makes me sad
and I am thinking i will long for these days when he bites
and smacks Kayleigh in the face with trucks and is unreasonable in his greed
to burn so bright

When we get future sad, we are imagining
that the object inspiring wonder
and our own type of greedy enjoying,
will leave a gaping hole

and there will be nothing to love so
un-holding-backingly
which is why it might be nice to
practice a little
now
to lean out the bus window a tad more
and love the stupid frog
on the woman's umbrella
or the rain that refuses to fall
on the stupid frog
or the cloud that refuses to move until the rain
stops being so uninspiring and vague

or the roses, oblivious and sunshivering together, in the garden
that was once a great secret from me
and is no more.
M  Mar 2014
I love you like (#35)
M Mar 2014
I love you like the roof loves the shutters
I love you like blue loves green
I love you like 'school' loves 'zone'
I love you like rust loves metal
I love you like an oak loves its twin
I love you like the Moon loves the Earth
I love you like a magnet with the same pole
I love you like a star-struck poet loves a muse
I love you like someone who has never loved before
and I've written it a thousand times, but I've never said it to you
because I love you like Darcy loves Elizabeth
and I'm scared if I say it aloud, you'll hear it.
This is terrible, but...
Leah Vee  Feb 2012
I come from
Leah Vee Feb 2012
I come from innocence:
shared VHS tapes,
Disney movies rewound so many times
they got jammed,
late nights spent searching for a lost Elmo doll,
orange Tic Tacs,
bedtime stories by Dr. Seuss
and later, J. R. R. Tolkien,
when Saturday mornings meant
waking up at 6 to watch cartoons,
and sleepovers involved liters of Mountain Dew
and Godfathers pizza.

I come from a magical world
where number 4 Privet Drive is my second address,
Big Brother is always watching,
and sleeping with windows open are invitations for Peter Pan.
A place where Mr. Darcy is my soul mate,
I have two dogs named Old Dan and Little Ann,
to follow a white rabbit is encouraged behavior,
and if you asked me who my hero is
I’d answer with “Sydney Carton.”

I come from opposite sides of the map:
One half includes
Springfield raised grandparents
giving me 20 first cousins,
29 second cousins,
annual family reunions at the lake,
home grown tomatoes,
and alcoholics.
The other half is four thousand miles away and includes
only two cousins,
phone calls every Sunday before two,
and phrases like “Weltrusten” and “Ik hou van jou”
that sound as English as “Good night” and “I love you.”

I come from transformation:
dance recitals where wearing lipstick and hating it
turned into High School
when we all started wearing eyeliner
because it made us look older,
summers soaked in sunlight
are now dampened with summer jobs,
monsters no longer lived under our beds
but in our heads,
clumsy first kisses went further,
romances disappeared
and were replaced with heartbreak
so agonizing
even chocolate couldn’t help,
funerals became imminent,
trophies won at basketball camp- age 7
mean nothing
when you’re told you’re not good enough- age 17.

I come from friendship:**
stupid fights for no reason
always meant brownies the next day,
five dollar Photobooth pictures at the mall,
scary movies we never finished,
sneaking out at three in the morning to swim in the neighbors pool,
and surprise birthday parties
complete with Silly String.
Learning that it’s okay
to let someone see you cry sometimes.
Dumb ideas like wagon racing,
and glow stick fights
that left welts on our arms and legs.
Lord of the Rings movie marathons,
girls night out at Buffalo Wild Wings,
riding bikes down the middle of the highway,
mix CD’s,
Red Mango runs,
words of comfort,
advice,
love,
and seeing the beauty in each other
even when we can’t see it in our self.
Barry loughton was a great bloke

you see he liked Aussie Rules and Fitzroy was his team

he had a hobby farm as well and i liked the idea of when he told me that

actually Barry was the man that changed me

you see he liked watching the FAT and he liked writing his poems

he liked the old style cricket and we joked about seeing the other half live

I liked Barry loughton, he was little but he was nice

you see when i watch TV at home and a show like the Glasshouse

or ***** laundry comes on, i think of him

Ir was hard when i found our he was dead

he fucken hung himself, WHY WHY WHY

since then I went backward because seeing his happy face and knowledge mind

was all i liked, we went to the war memorial him and my mate Dan

but i am searching for him, what me being Cronus and all

and i found him

Barry Loughton is now Darcy Tadich age 10, who is the latest inclusion to the Neighbours cast

I liked Barru loughton’s stone in the shoe poem

have you ever gone through life with a stone in my shoe, I do,

well Darcy has that stone now

can i tell you one thing, barry was a very happy choppy when i rang him up

we talked about his trip to the Bradman Museum and trips with his son

now, i wish 10 year old darcy all the best after his last life was a terrible suicide
We are the only ones in the room.*
Your eyes seep into me like honey dripping from a beehive.
We pass by each other and your fiery gaze draws me *closer.

I take in a sharp breath, forgetting the commotion around us.
Nobody else is in the ballroom.
Just us until the music stops.
This poem is from the scene when Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth dance for the first time during the Bingsley ball in the movie Pride and Prejudice. This poem is from Elizabeth's perspective, full of internal passion and love. Everybody wants a love like Elizabeth's and Mr. Darcy's. <3
Jenny Gordon Oct 2018
I have no idea why that first line came to mind while I was indeed cleaning.  I've not read Austen in years, nor watched movies in months.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMCDXLI)


Jane Austen's drawing rooms I'd feign avail
Me of, whose wainscot's polished oak is dense
With import as the papered walls from hence
Look smug; yes, take a turn in sheer betrayl
Across those gleaming floors, dressed ah, to scale
In empire-waist' floor-length is it pretense?
And for the *** of tea I'll sip for sense,
The dainty patterns on those walls' sweet bail.
Don't ask me why.  In scrubbing bathrooms' tour,
I could not settle on just whither to
Until that note piqued languid thoughts as twere.
I've been there so oft for discussions through
Each novel, t'would be quite refreshing, poor
As fiction's vain suggestion, if'd could do.

11Oct18a
What's left to add?
mj  Jul 2018
Mistress's Letter
mj Jul 2018
Dear Mr. Darcy,
don't leave me kind sir!

I'll do as you ask!
I'll bend and I'll weep

I won't tell your wife sir
It's a promise I'll keep

Oh Mr. Darcy!
I won't fall asleep

You can beat me as you please!
You can tease me on my knees!

Just please Mr. Darcy...
Please don't ever leave me!
midnight prague Apr 2011
I would like if I could, to venture out
into a baroque cave where the walls are translucent
and all that surrounds it are rivers of coherence
and incoherence
where I can scream, and when my echoes
radiate they bounce off on me and touch
the spaces in between my fingers
bizarre and ornate
rococo chimes lift my spirit
progressive, regressive
subliminal rising, into the sea of whispers
and final decisions  
and crazed hands
and melting lips
and bruised knuckles
and fighting wrists...

I subsist to consist
of the fluid that makes me up
lavender barely breathing
flowers/continue/endure

hang tough, low by lakes of conspiracy
and hate/ block eyes/ shed those ill states

I carry this entity/essence/life gentely
in my arms like a ancestor. mother .
press its head against my skin and give it everything
in my blood filled hands, sinful/blessed/ tiered creatures
I feel beautiful in these worlds.

eyes closed in sleep, palms spread forth
oceans cleansing, I feel like an infant
stomach twists and hearts bat burnt wings
and learn to fly

I radiate.full hearted. eminence spoke to me
through her portal of solid grass and dieing trees
in the outskirts of the vagabond, slowly unraveling
like a child speaking
slowly growing like new love
stricken instantly
I am in
between Cleopatra and Mark
between Orpheus and Eurydice
between Odysseus and Penelope
between Elizabeth Bennett and Darcy
between Salim and Anarkali
I shiver in that love
that breathes in determent
and breathes out fragrance  
  

temperate plasma hooked onto
the grind of my woman I beat like
the robins breast/ trembling in awe
like a living leaf blowing in the winter wind
resisting/giving in/ perishing/ breathing
to the sound of this beautiful life
Sjr1000  Jun 2018
Homer Lane
Sjr1000 Jun 2018
No Tell Motel
Low rent rendezvous
Johnny and Darcy
Modern romance
She lived at the doctors house
With the loaded gun
Bang.
Both were going out with
Dancin' Doug
Though nobody knew
They always did their dance at noon
Poor Johnny, he always came to soon,
He was from Virginia City, Nv
A small town boy with a cosmic mind
Darcy was a runaway from Wyckoff, New Jersey, escaping her family having an adventure she had no where else to go
They all lived in the dust on
Homer Lane
A dusty dirt road

Dancin' Doug threw a benefit
No one knew what for
He scheduled bands to play
BYOB
Smoke anything tree
The moon was full
The colored lights were twinkling
Dancin' Doug saw Johnny and Darcy
smooching to
A cover of Dancing in the Dark
Maybe it was the Ecstasy
or maybe it was the whiskey
He didn't know what to feel
jealousy, great love, or greed
He took all their money
And danced on
in
the dust
at Homer Lane

Johnny and Sue
Headed on over to room 102
at The No Tell Motel

Another low rent rendezvous.

— The End —