Jesus! The sweet burn of a heartbeat racing,
madly light-headed without a drop
passing lips that just
yearned
for want of a more sweaty term

inching to overdose with each reverie
while the colour drains from the now
a quick bump from a caught scent
or piqued memory

or a full on sofa session
pipe packed with young *****
(what dreams may come?)

the result’s the same:
unless you find today’s feast
you’ll atrophy on empty calories
of what was

#youhavepromptedme #flashedback #memory #nostalgia #youth

If we lay in a field of grass
I will still love you
As I look at the stars
And you'll be up there

I on Earth far away
Writing this poem
So, distant from you
You will be so close too

In the crevice of my heart
In the lines of this poem
I shall grant you a space
In songs, books, and art

You flee like a rainbow after showers
And I still remember you in those little things
Even though my poem won't feel the same
But, in our memories we are still in that field

In the grass, carefree and restless
Youngsters looking at the sparrows so far apart
That the clouds can almost fit into the picture
Ah yes, the cloudy sky, the rusted leaves, and that old shack

But, I am uncertain of my memory
You are no longer there to correct me
There must have been a tire swing, my heart knows
I may not remember much, my mind is old

But, the puddles on this sunlit street
Have they gotten bigger or I older?
Unable to jump over them
Like an agile fox

And as I part my hair like you once did affectionately
I keep saying old habits die hard
But, why do
People always leave?

A bold density of memory anchors,
scattered across a past
where colour saturates
like someone sat on the remote control,
holy hand grenades on loose afternoons
with the slap and bicker of passing the joypad
in blithe ignorance of washing piles
deadlines and empty pockets

Drifting in the now, helium light,
well-heeled but drab,
absent fingers trace the slight links
on the line around arthritic ankles
as they gently, surely give

They had been together from dusk. He had taken her through their old haunts and old friends, and others, familiar faces with broad smiles and without names, had greeted them everywhere. And now, on her doorstep in the early morning hours, she slid her hand behind his head and held it still as she enveloped him.

When she tilted away, her eyes were closed. Her lips lingered over his, an infinitesimal separation. The night air was cool. She eased away and turned up her collar. She opened her eyes to the blue-black sky and let her gaze search from star to star. Without a word, she was inside, alone, her hands behind her, her back flush against the door knowing full well that was the last time.

It was so long ago
Six years can come and go
I wonder if I can still say,
“Hate to say I told you so.”

Now I’ve fallen so low
I wonder if it still applies
How evil you were in my eyes...
The wickedness of your lies...

You had made promises, but they weren’t kept
Yet you maintained all your self-respect
When forgave all the wrong you had done
You never offered any real apology
You replied instead,
“Girls just want to have fun.”

...Shallow you were
...Shameless you remain
And I can't live my life that way
This aged memory
Serves to remind me
That people we really love
Should not be enjoyed selfishly
You didn't comfort me during my sorrows
Didn't help keep our relationship stable
Like a sponge, you laid passively
Absorbing the good I offered selflessly
Others may squeeze to get something from you
But that is just something I cannot do.

You chose to live a loveless life
How could you have made a good wife?
But a life of holding yourself dear
Is the kind which I must always fear