Two poems for lost love

 

A hearty breakfast



We take our coffee black these days,
Saccharined and sugar free.
Our milk of human kindness soured
To curds and whey, to you and me.
And over silent breakfasts sit.
Where headline barricades rise up.
We shed no tears for what was spilled,
When lips once kissed our loving cup.
Our toast is dry and always burned,
The marmalade, now bitter peel
And all we’ve left is crusts and crumbs
For evidence of what we feel.

At eight we separate our days,
You wait for trains, I take the bus,
To different worlds and hours to think
Of what might now become of us.
Then at day’s end we dawdle home
Reluctant in our weary walk.
To distant TV dinners where
We never need to touch or talk.
Our bedtimes now, which once were one
We measure by the clock’s bleak chime,
And dreams of love that’s been and gone
And all that's left, are walls … and time.

 

 

 

Weather report  

                                               

 

It rained today.
Not hard,
but long
and
oh
so slow.
The kind of rain,
or so they say,
that seeps
right to the bone.
As cold as loss,
a world in grey.

I lost myself
in thoughts and streets
and drip and hiss.
But oceans could not
scour away
the footprints
in the sand of me.
Each stinging kiss
has left its hollow mark
on skin that feels
forever scarred
and stained.
The stolen summer
boxed and bagged.

Today it rained.

 

losslovesorrowtime

◄ "… not the only fruit" and "three kisses"

A dish served cold ►

Comments

Janet

Sun 18th Jan 2009 13:19

Hi Anthony,
the first poem made me feel so sad it brought tears to my eyes. Yet it is beautifully written.

The second one 'weather report,' was also quite good and very grey, except for the footprints in the sand of me. Splendid visionary senses.

Enjoyed these very much. Thankyou for sharing them with us.
Janet.xx

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Chris Dawson

Sun 18th Jan 2009 12:50

Perhaps I didn't phrase that in quite the right way - I meant 'bleak' in a good way! - not a negative. :-)
Have you ever read any Anne Tyler? In 'A Patchwork Planet' she wrote (paraphrasing here!) that every relationship is strained, but after 40 or 50 years - the other sort of becomes the right person. Or something along those lines.
Your poem reminded me of that anyway.
Thanks for your remarks re my 'Attitude'! lol
Cx

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Chris Dawson

Sun 18th Jan 2009 11:22

Both of these are excellent Anthony, but I particularly liked 'A Hearty Breakfast' - very well written - it did, however, leave me feeling a little bit bleak!
Cx

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