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eva-mae coffey Aug 2019
and I would call you my Heathcliff,
but I am no Catherine.

You were a complex character
before I made my impact,
I cannot claim to have caused your
wounds, nor to have healed your heart,
But for the time we had,
I hope I brought you some small,
( however small)
amount of joy, or at least
rest,
from the wicked souls who tormented you
That now reside in a shadow behind your smile.

And yes, in a way I suppose I have the qualities of Catherine,
I too broke my own heart,
but at least you could recognise
that you too, played your part.
Catherine Maven Mar 2018
Apr 2, 1987

I wonder how they met,
What magic thread drew them together
In ever-tightening stitches
Till their fabrics began to mesh.

I wonder how they knew
This was the One inside whose head –
And heart – they’d find themselves.

Peculiar pulsing rhythms
Unheard by strangers’ ears,
Or need that flows from deep recess
Of silent hearts?

Dancing in the stillness of the night
To music ringing in my soul;
As yet unheard, my secret name
Calls out to other’s honest places:
Claim me, find me, take me home.
Catherine Maven Mar 2018
Sept. 10, 1987

Inside old ladies on bicycles
I see ghosts of young girls,
pigtails flying from beneath their greying hair
eyes sparkling behind thick glasses.

I search in me, for ghosts of hopscotch
and double-dutch, two-***** and tag.
I can feel them shimmer,
holograms of my youth.

I search, too, for the ghost
of the old lady I will become.
I sense her, frail but determined,
fading, but not dead before she dies.

If little girls live inside old ladies,
and age hides just beneath young faces,
there is no such thing as time.
Charles Ernest Oct 2017
The lake was a sprawling uneven mass
Like a slithering serpent of uncertainty
Underneath our boat
We counted the moments to the future
The yards from the past were still very few
We feared of getting lost in the quest
To relinquish our past
And to marry a sweet future
Our destinies intertwined
On the road to blood and war
The war was unending
The blood was raining
Then we found ourselves
In the embrace of each other
We fell in love
We fell from grace
The ugly war
The incredible noise
The unimaginable distances
We had to escape
The boat was just a metaphor
Of the times we only knew
How important love could be
In saving our souls from drowning
In the coldness of life.
A Poetic Tribute to Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms

— The End —