Sörum
CranMalReign
Posts: 1,928
This is the last pwem I wrote for a dear friend of mine. She and I had always cared for each other, but never ended up on the same page. And so she married someone else.
I bought her a windowseat named Sörum from Ikea as a wedding present which represented some sort of irony to me the last time I allowed myself to feel love for her.
~~~
Sörum
October 6, 2002
She tossed me blankets
from the window seat
I bought for her wedding
before hugging me weakly
and wishing me good night
We had just completed another
awkward subject change
and were both pondering
if fate was real
or doubt mortal
as we sat in candlelight
on the porch where we used to smoke together
(back when we both still smoked)
We stared down a teetering sort of silence
which threatened to beg the questions
from behind it's ghostly veil of good behavior
or kept composure
Her husband laid oblivious and asleep in her bed
dying of a ruptured pancreas
or stomach cancer
or over-cooked biscuits
and we laughed a little,
scraping the night of hesitation and greed,
successfully ignoring the ugly specter
of my misconstrued secrets
screaming to be told
before giving in and giving up
But she blew out the candles
sending a last gasp of smoke and hope
drifting toward Heaven or bed
and I stood in the dark
smiling
and hating,
remembering unconditional love
and what it must have felt like
if I had paid attention when I had it
As I dressed my air mattress for the night,
I pondered silently my fate and doubt
and pretended not to hear every one of her footsteps
dragging my escape away from me
I slid out of my jeans
(naked, at last)
and draped them carefully across the window seat
not near a window
but by the door
and dried my eyeballs staring into infinity
through the ceiling I knew had to be there
shielding me from meteorites and the rain
Then
sometime between a curse of memories
and the curse of wakefulness
I dreamt uneasily
of waves and the ocean
and of drowning
I bought her a windowseat named Sörum from Ikea as a wedding present which represented some sort of irony to me the last time I allowed myself to feel love for her.
~~~
Sörum
October 6, 2002
She tossed me blankets
from the window seat
I bought for her wedding
before hugging me weakly
and wishing me good night
We had just completed another
awkward subject change
and were both pondering
if fate was real
or doubt mortal
as we sat in candlelight
on the porch where we used to smoke together
(back when we both still smoked)
We stared down a teetering sort of silence
which threatened to beg the questions
from behind it's ghostly veil of good behavior
or kept composure
Her husband laid oblivious and asleep in her bed
dying of a ruptured pancreas
or stomach cancer
or over-cooked biscuits
and we laughed a little,
scraping the night of hesitation and greed,
successfully ignoring the ugly specter
of my misconstrued secrets
screaming to be told
before giving in and giving up
But she blew out the candles
sending a last gasp of smoke and hope
drifting toward Heaven or bed
and I stood in the dark
smiling
and hating,
remembering unconditional love
and what it must have felt like
if I had paid attention when I had it
As I dressed my air mattress for the night,
I pondered silently my fate and doubt
and pretended not to hear every one of her footsteps
dragging my escape away from me
I slid out of my jeans
(naked, at last)
and draped them carefully across the window seat
not near a window
but by the door
and dried my eyeballs staring into infinity
through the ceiling I knew had to be there
shielding me from meteorites and the rain
Then
sometime between a curse of memories
and the curse of wakefulness
I dreamt uneasily
of waves and the ocean
and of drowning
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Comments
Say it SPANK
Did I hear someone say the magic word???
SPANKIDY-SPANK-SPANK
I know this poem like the back of my mind and all the thoughts hidden for another so long ago.
I don't know if you read my thread of if you gave up or if it just didn't suit your tastes, which I can understand, but there is/are a few things in there about my version of that same similar story.
hope you find it and like it sometime...
seta
but, on another note, this was your most beautiful piece yet.
I thank you very much for the compliment. This is probably one of my favorites, I think, from my own collection.
I will admit in shame that I haven't paid much attention to your thread. I see it daily and am intrigued by it, but the sheer size of it causes me to shy away. I have a nasty habit of avoiding threads with more than a dozen or so replies. I am robbing myself, I am sure.
And so, thanks to your persuasion, I will begin to tackle the thread today in my whisps of free time.
I'm off!
I tend to be overbearing and I beg forgiveness.
I always wondered what would have happened if I had just done a whoooooooole bunch of little threads, but I just don't think it would have been me.
ah well.
I enjoy your work.. there is a quiet confidence there. Sometimes a quiet arrogance too... but it's all so honest. I often wish my pieces had your out and out strength and effect, mine are so murked in subtleties and metaphor (setaphor as radar calls it).
I love the styles hereabouts. Refreshing and inspiring all the same.
seta