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Open Poetry #47
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The Scribe, The Author, The Fool
| Open Poetry #47 |
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The Scribe, The Author, The Fool |
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martiniat8 Senior Member
since 2003-06-21
Posts 897Prague, Bohemia, Czech Republic |
After waiting for hours in the sun just for the chance of seeing her they spent the day together only to let her slip away they spent the day talking they spent the day walking together, on the Seventh of May Things come and go, as do friends and lovers. He didn't know if he would see her again. Why would she want to, after what he did... He couldn't dream of any other. How can he be a hero, if he seems a villain to her? How could he let her go that night? That night on the metro. She was there and he let her slip away, with no kiss with no plans for another day. He sat in the grass of Karlovo Namesti after she left, he wept in the cool wet grass, on the Seventh of May. He walked along the Vltava, sat at a riverside Beer Garden alone, watching the sunset, alone. there was music playing, a guitarist, a singer, ended his set... "How I wish, how I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, Running over the same old ground. What have you found? The same old fears. Wish you were here." He walked home, wrote her, apologizing sending her the photos she took of him by the wall, the John Lennon Love Prague Peace Wall that fateful photo, was painted "Love Texas" He was in it, it was him it was Texas Love in Prague. it was written, unsaid, within. He didn't know what was written on that wall he didn't even know where he stood. He didn't know where he stood... with her or against the wall the walls around a heart their fears, his fears his thoughts... of never seeing her again... He suffered the "slings and arrows" of her wrath her words, her letter, her wrath they struck his heart and soul stuck in him, thrust in him, struck in him, one by one they rained from the heavens, they rained from the sky they rained from the corner, from the corner of his eye when his dearest friend leaves and says, "Bye" drop by drop, a man weeps... He doesn't cry. (quoted lyrics by Pink Floyd) |
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| © Copyright 2011 Kenneth Bradley Smith - All Rights Reserved | |||
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
You wrote my poem, martiniat8. Yes. This is love ruined in the nth degree. I've never seen anything better by you. From the heart. The gut. Now that it is has been outed, pick up and move along. ~ I have never been in a situation where having money made it worse. ~ |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
This is very good work, dear Kenneth. It has a harmonious flow to it and carries the reader along touching the heart. It is a pity that you do not interact on Pip, more poets would read and enjoy your poetry and comment on it if you did. Love, Margherita |
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Lori Grosser Rhoden Member Patricius
since 2009-10-10
Posts 10202Fair to middlin' of nowhere |
I'm with Jerry and Margherita. This is great, write here more often.  Lori |
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