The Waiting

It's been a disgustingly long time since I blogged! I'm not quite sure why I've been so remiss. But I HAVE been writing, so I'll share something now. This is a little mini-narrative I concocted, when asked to write a poem on the theme of either 'violence' or 'silence'. I think that the following falls into both categories. But see what you think...

 

“I’m not waiting for you”.

 

Nevertheless, time passes. He’s taking

the kind of interest in passers-by

that comes with being left, on a cold day.

 

He’s wearing the grey coat with a collar

that would turn up, but he’ll not

do it. She’ll be here in a minute.

 

Two Beatles songs, and the Greek alphabet

later, there’s a shift in the air.

Is she here?

 

Disappointment is surprisingly light.

You can wear it, watch-like, on your wrist,

or button it into your pocket, hiding it.

 

But still there’s no lift in the quiet.

Carefully he levers gum from the packet,

shifts left foot to a new position. Head back

 

to watch the pale blue, miraculous

but perfectly moronic sky. Shit, why?

She’s really doing it. Taking his promise

 

and treading it, silently, into the cold pavement.

◄ Permutations (OR Death and Syntaxes, I can't decide)

Another third person relationship poem; as yet untitled ►

Comments

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Andy N

Fri 31st Dec 2010 08:14

nice stuff, jo.. love the intro here and i like no lift in the quiet, but that's a lot of good stuff in this piece... top one! Andy N x

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winston plowes

Wed 29th Dec 2010 16:19

Loved the feel of this Jo, 'Two Beatles songs, and the Greek alphabet later' and the last 2 lines are my fave lines. thought the whole thing fresh and well observed. Winston

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