Poetry Blog by Judi Strega
I wake sometimes and reach out to touch you,
forget, in sleep, I'm all alone in bed.
I'm left to take pleasure from all this space,
this cool expanse of uncreased sheet instead
If we had not parted as enemies,
if your fear had not driven me away,
would you still be lying here, I wonder,
waiting for my touch to give you the ok?
I dream of your warm body sometimes,
Monday 30th March 2015 8:04 pm
I can't think inside this house.
My thoughts have no room at all.
They struggle, battling each other for space,
jostling against hard, closed walls,
reeling back to me clumsily,
angry, trapped and bitter,
inflicting the darkest mood.
I need wide open spaces
to send thoughts soaring away,
to circle around and arrange themselves
sweeping along the bay,
over the rocks and over the sea,
Wednesday 31st December 2014 8:17 pm
I liked the look of you
unpolished I suppose
and as long as you didn't impose yourself
I was happy to spend some time well
I had repelled so many boarders
I met each friendly quip
with a curl of my lip
to make sure this ship sailed on alone
It took a long time to trust you
to adjust to every day
yes every day I'd ask myself
how I felt about you did I love you...
Saturday 13th December 2014 4:48 pm
that night, I woke and remembered
wrapped in grief
in the tangle of my sheets
I couldn't sleep
I wound your old sweater round my neck
breathing in the very scent of you
by the lake, gusts of wind stirred the leaves
the shivering trees
flashing lights from passing cars lit the shallows
shoals of ghostly fish slid by
like traffic on a neon-lit motorway
mimicking the ...
Sunday 23rd November 2014 3:43 pm
I have a letter. It is my most precious possession.
I keep it safe, tucked into the sails of a painted boat
made in China, designed to remind of a seaside lifestyle.
I don't know why I bought it as I do live by the sea,
though I don't have a 'lifestyle' - just a life.
I painted the cotton sails duck egg blue
to match cushions I made, so there is 'style' too,
- not just a ho...
Friday 14th November 2014 7:45 am
For many years I led the way
until you joined me at my side.
Now you're striding out in front,
and leaving me behind.
Sometimes, I have called you back
and you have answered as before
but my voice is getting weak,
the miles between too far.
For you have your own roads to tread
and your own loved ones walk behind.
Until they start to catch you up,
your time is theirs, not mine.
Sunday 9th November 2014 2:34 pm
The ventriloquist comes out onto the stage
with a suitcase and slowly opens the lid
revealing a ragbag of characters, just as I do, as I once did.
As a sad little girl, my running-away suitcase
held my pencils, paper and Nicky, my doll.
All that I held precious was there in that case and that didn't change at all.
In the 60s, my fab pull-along suitcase
with Mary Quant daisies all over the l...
Friday 7th November 2014 8:11 am
Excitedly I read your text:
'I've found a room for us.'
'In London?' 'Not quite - in Ilford.'
I mustn't make a fuss,
but I didn't think you were serious at all.
Anyway, Ilford's in Essex,
How do I get there from Cornwall?
'A room on the 25th floor', you said,
'just seventeen-fifty a night.
I've booked it for the coming weekend
so get there early on Friday night'.
No cheap seats ...
Thursday 6th November 2014 7:18 am
I've become a daytime, weekday friend,
I never get invited out at weekend.
I'm part of a sub-class who's without a bloke,
lives alone on a pension, usually broke.
From Monday to Friday, between ten and five,
I'll share a latte, a lunch or a drive.
I'm game for a laugh, won't do kiss-and-tell
so I come in handy and scrub up quite well.
We meet in tea rooms, kiss cheeks 'cross the table
Wednesday 5th November 2014 7:38 am