Archive for the Nostalgia Category
0
Fingers and Toes

You’re on my list, baby
And the memory drives me crazy
Too bad it’s too good for you now
Could do with a bit of you now
Yeah, might try to work it over again
See if I can get you in tune
Surely you still feel it too?
…No?
Well, sorry for bothering you!

0
Book Jacket Manifest

It begins with Love, something felt
A rush of warmth
Afternoon… bitumen
A classroom exercise and[!]
We’re paired to dance
[Here Comes Your Chance, Girl]
Summon the Cool, pretend to chew
Chewing gum, casual
Punctured by a giggle
Oh so nervous: a darling demonstration
Young, heart-pumping, bright eyes
Clearly-
you’ve no idea!
Our Hands linked, clumsy feet
[perfection, really]
My direct gaze
[Dare not look away!] …savouring
This boyish boy, this spunky spunk
With well-know initials
in the margins of my workbook
And blue pen on my palm
A childish act; deliberate
As if it could manifest
– shoot out from the hands into existence.
I stand straight; straight and proud
Thankful for this time, my chance
Over the other pretty girls
with braided hair and lunchbox sweets
[low ponytail, my golden apple]
The boy stands, moves,
Moves as I do [or tries to]
This dancing girl
Actioning the Feet, Playing Cool,
all while Making Note
The Mind Camera – click, click, click
and memory preserved
locked, wound-tight
for the unravelling later, when
The Writer emerges to fan the fiction
Alone in my Room
There, I summoned You
My fantastical creation
The narration of events
[not quite] rightly so
The promise of a kiss
I replay, my theatre
Lips to hand, soft, pretending
It happened [!]
With the same conviction
looking for the Clover
in a green blanket of possibilities
[one I knew didn’t exist]
[but looked for nonetheless]
So that it might grant me
Just one wish –
Might these Day Dreams
be as Night Dreams
and exist in the waking morning
the Desired Events [obsessively nurtured]
Played out beautifully, as rehearsed
Over and Over and Over
You knew, [of course you did]
[or at least, you do now]
that you shared
a name with the King
The King of Horror.
Musing-
Perhaps that influence, Now
This joy in fright
Travels down the spine
The scare – such a delight!
And skipping life’s pages
Present-
A bookshelf
and browsing book jackets
[my proud collection]
Here!:
The name reminds me
Back then,
Back when-
the girl was quick to blush
You were the first boy
…the First Crush.

0
Word Porn, Scorn

While we’re on a roll
and the prose flows
I am reminded of old poems
I wrote in my teens
Awkward, not particularly good
but of course, at the time
I thought they were magnificent
and read them loudly, proudly
to anyone with an ear
But it troubles me-
I have to wonder, now
will I feel the same
about these words spilling out?
will I cringe as I read
what I presently believe
to be good?

1 2 3 >