Day: May 25, 2009

Same Old Routine

poetry

It’s been twelve days
Since you briskly exited the room
Walking through the ornately carved
Dark cherry coloured door,
A resounding click as the lever fell into place.
We could’ve had some great times—
Sip diner coffee at two in the morning,
Black, two sugars and free refills.
Cheer boisterously at baseball games,
You got so excited you spilled your soda.
Could’ve shared our writing,
My favorite was the one set in Boston—
If only I would have introduced myself.

Jazz Club

poetry

open the door and
take the elevator down,
down, down, down, down, down;

into the dark and
the smoke that swirls around,
down, down, down, down, down;

into the past where
that prohibition feeling surrounds,
down, down, down, down, down;

where the music pervades
filling every crevisce with sound,
down, down, down, down, down;

where heads grow light
as drink after drink goes down,
down, down, down, down, down.

the depths of silence

poetry

cast about for words
that don’t seem to come
because there’s nothing,
nothing on the surface to say,
and we don’t want to go
beyond the surface
because if we were open,
really, really open,
then everything would change,
and we would never again laugh together
because the shadow of the depth,
the shadow would always remain,
tinting and tainting our mirth,
striking it away;
so we’ll perpetually sit in silence
until only the silence remains.

At least until the drinking started

poetry

“It’s so nice to be together
but to not feel like we have to talk,”
I found myself thinking
whilst driving with old friends
to whom I had no idea what to say;

and I all but convinced myself
that this was how it should be,
trying to not recognize the probability
that our friendship had passed away,
and that only a faint semblance remained.