Jikai Zheng Dec 2017

Yes, we can talk in secret
You brought me flowers?
Thank you

No, you're not like them
Not like the other guys
Yes, you're special

Why?
Well, you got a mole right there
No, the one on your forearm

Serious, though
I like your mindset
Open-minded

Oh, more?
I think you have the prettiest eyes
You blinked

Yes, I love them
Close my eyes?
Now, me

Really? Kind?
That's lame
Okay, fine

I do believe you
Cool, I'm cool
You, too

I'm down
We can go now
Yeah, just us

Laurel Leaves Dec 2017

"But, the fucking screaming you know?"

Lavender

"You know like the lump, the lump in my throat. I cant breathe anymore"

Rips the flower from the bush.

"-- And I just, I just. Fuck"

Rubs the lavender petals between palms.

"The fucking screaming. Are you listening? The screaming"

Puts hands up to face and inhales the smell of the crushed flowers.

Jonathan Finch Dec 2017

I found myself in Putney
after many stupid years.
It was a worthless day
before spring comes with all its biting powers.
There was nothing there in Putney
but that February hearse
and all the villainy of incredible memory
born out of pointless love and hope that blackmails.
There was traffic there, that endless vicious fume
of noise; and litter blowing pointlessly;
savage parents; hard and worried kids;
the thundering mess of London all around;
a hop of sparrows on that pointless ground.
I found myself in Putney
where I lost myself so many stupid years ago,
and by that withered house a withered love arose.
“Ah, love,” I whispered, “why have you arisen?”
“You acknowledge me?” she said.
“Of course,” I answered.
“Put your arm across my breast,” she said.
“Touch my still hair. Weep plentifully.
“Let your poor heart break. Strike here across my cheek
“To know what you have lost.”
“My love,” I whispered, “why have you arisen?”
(From the withered house the years were toppling.)
“Stupid questions from a stupid man.
“You loved me and you lost me.”
Then the roar of London hurt my head.
I saw a man go down a street
Where no street was, where no man was.

penultimate poem in "Love" Poems For Kathy written some years after the end
Jonathan Finch Nov 2017

I found myself in Putney
after many stupid years.
It was a worthless day
before spring comes with all its biting powers.
There was nothing there in Putney
but that February hearse
and all the villainy of incredible memory
born out of pointless love and hope that blackmails.
There was traffic there, that endless vicious fume
of noise; and litter blowing pointlessly;
savage parents; hard and worried kids;
the thundering mess of London all around;
a hop of sparrows on that pointless ground.
I found myself in Putney
where I lost myself so many stupid years ago,
and by that withered house a withered love arose.
“Ah, love,” I whispered, “why have you arisen?”
“You acknowledge me?” she said.
“Of course,” I answered.
“Put your arm across my breast,” she said.
“Touch my still hair. Weep plentifully.
“Let your poor heart break. Strike here across my cheek
“To know what you have lost.”
“My love,” I whispered, “why have you arisen?”
(From the withered house the years were toppling.)
“Stupid questions from a stupid man.
“You loved me and you lost me.”
Then the roar of London hurt my head.
I saw a man go down a street
Where no street was, where no man was.

Penultimate in the collection after I had lost Kathy. I went to Putney and hallucinated without drugs except the drug of terrible pain...I had lost Katharine forever!
Alyalyna Nov 2017

‘Human life is beyond reason
We are just small pieces, you know’
‘Grains of sand, you know’
‘You don’t seem to understand
I can see it in your eyes, girl’

Then you put your hand
With a cigarette in it to your lips
‘You know, how it seems to me?’ - you say
‘Everything good we had in life now slips…
Please, turn the music up a little bit
My favorite one, heard it before?
Oh, no? you don’t say so!
I should now say ‘get up and go’!
Sorry, you know it – I’m just kidding… I am!
As long as I live I’ll show you the best music, my friend…
This is all that matters in the end’

‘Wanna do something more
Wanna help orphan kids, you know
Guys dying from cancer and aids, you know
But I only keep on buying milk and hotdogs
For the homeless one sleeping at my door…’

‘Wanna do something more
I’VE GOT TO do something more!
We all are selfish, kid, you know
You do know it for sure
Can’t help the others
So, the others won’t help us’


And I…
I just kept listening
I kept on listening and listening
All my attention given to your feelings
In words
And I don’t hesitate to say
I found a soulmate in you
And still I wasn’t that pure
Simply inside my head
Caring
About what we have and had
Comparing
The present and the past
People in general
And our own being at last…

And I was dialing your number
For the whole next day
The voicemail kept on telling
You had gone away

You were so smart; you were so kind
Understanding and ahead of your time
I can’t believe you are gone now
Where?
– I don’t know
I only know forever
Can’t even tell you come back, please
I only know
I will
Forever
Keep you
in my memories

September Rose Oct 2017

Hello
I've left my dear
I've already left
I'm so sorry
You don't have to forgive me
You don't even have to understand
Stay strong
I still care
Alright
I understand
Goodbye

Laurel Leaves Oct 2017

The difference between you and I

"I just dont feel it anymore"
-Did you ever feel it?
"I'm not sure."
-But you don't now? So you once felt something?
"I think so? What about you? Did you feel anything?"


-I wouldn't have moved in with you if I didn't.

"Oh."

-Yeah.

I know it's not technically a poem but,
Johan Nel Sep 2017

my will is bent with dread
my eyes, full of green contempt
is this then where i make my bed
where pigs bathe without Lament--

wash my back with mud and spite
and sure as night i will wash yours too
festering meat in sun the light
i am your best friend, this is true.

leave me now i say to my shadow that is not there
leave for the gallows with your pleasures, and your knife
you are not my master i say to the air
i only know you now, when i converse with Strife--

you can laugh and you can play,  i am watching still
become careless - embrace the day so bright and new
i am at the top and the bottom of every other hill
and then you may ease again into what you think is true.

but now you have revealed yourself, my laughter is uncontained
your hand was not concealed, i have played this round before
longer and harder then, when my every word was pained
i leave you now once again because Death is at the door--

ticking, ticking time your whims are so delightful
you are my loyal hymn sang out of breath and rue
my messenger and lover - so insightful
our hands are locked in the bliss of a passage we simply call True.

© Johan Nel 2017.09.05
Laurel Leaves Aug 2017

"I don't understand you seem so happy"

          "Didn't you go to school to learn how to deal with people  like me? I project what people want to see."  

                        "Yeah but look at you, you understand why you're acting this way, you can logically decipher it, you don't even need me sitting across from you taking notes or telling you what you need to do, you already know. But you still want to die. You still sit across from me every week with new scars, new stories and I want to help you but how do I help someone who already knows?"

                  "Ok, but that's my problem. I can logically see what is happening, I get it, I'm fucking depressed, we're all fucking depressed and we all die, and inevitably the happiness I feel will disappear and worse things will come my way ----
          and god forbid if worse things don't come my way, I'll live a meaningless, numb, long life. Doesn't that thought keep you up at night? Doesn't that just epically fuck you up? It's all I can think about. And if I go home and finish the job I started 3 years ago and actually end it, I will have lived a short,unfulfilling life that left nothing on this planet I was proud of, except for the grief the people who love me will feel  
..........and well. I don't want that."


"Yeah, you're right."

"Fuck. So what do I do?"

"You keep living and endure it."

Conversations with my therapist.
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