dedalus Posted March 26, 2011 Share Posted March 26, 2011 I was nervous, I admit it, as I rang the bell, having walked down from the house, a journey I had made so many times when I was a teenager and you were my girl. You were a bloody awful girlfriend as I recall, so moody, so bitchy, inclined to throw tantrums, so beautiful drop-dead gorgeous when I held you on my arm. There we were sweet Máire mo chroí floating over the streets of Dublin back in the days of our fresh-faced youth and terrible innocence. I’d be sneering at the passing boys, I felt seven feet tall. I was in love with you. All the many years that have passed us over, different countries, different children, I can hear the bell ring in your house as I wait for you to answer, and I feel suddenly seventeen. Quote Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tonyv Posted March 26, 2011 Share Posted March 26, 2011 Very nicely carried from "back in the day" to today, Brendan. I wonder if the speaker will be disappointed when she answers? Perhaps he'll even be heartbroken. (It happens!) On the other hand, even if the present doesn't quite match the memory, it can become the moment of getting over, of moving on, of closure, so to speak. Very well done. Tony Quote Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dedalus Posted March 26, 2011 Author Share Posted March 26, 2011 (edited) There's a "back story" to this one which ties in to my visit to Ireland last summer. (things I never knew about at the time but recently, starkly, was made aware of) The memories crowd down: ghosts at the feast don't ever ever ever unearth them. Turns out she ... well it's too late now. Our lives have gone in different directions, I'm through with pain, and it's all over now Baby Blue. Edited March 26, 2011 by dedalus Quote Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Larsen M. Callirhoe Posted March 28, 2011 Share Posted March 28, 2011 master piece my friend. prince michael Quote Larsen M. Callirhoe Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
moonqueen Posted March 30, 2011 Share Posted March 30, 2011 My "wow" is directed at both your well placed, well used words, as well as when I let my mind wander to the 'what might have beens'. Nice piece. Tammi Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dedalus Posted April 1, 2011 Author Share Posted April 1, 2011 I think we use poetry as a way of dealing with the emotions brought out in the course of living our lives. It's a way of trying to come to terms with the things that have moved or deeply disturbed us, a displacement activity, a form of self-analysis. That's why so much juvenile poetry (not to be spurned!) is self-centred and concerned almost entirely with feelings. That's how it begins. Later you tend to branch out, explore other people apart from yourself, either that or retreat into nature which seems safe and calm and eternal. It's a journey with no end in sight ... and we certainly can't be accused of doing it for money!! Quote Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aleksandra Posted April 5, 2011 Share Posted April 5, 2011 Hey, Bren. This is very clear poem. It's obvious that it's written from a heart. Aleksandra Quote The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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