Happy Haunts

Happy Haunts

Here we are, the well-wishers

Wrapped in flaws, with the dogs begging from us.

I remember the time lost to the bare rooms

And the awful blue walls which made up our ballroom

The way things were were over far too soon

Waves roared like they tend to.

After all, minds bent and triggered

Red lights conjured by red faces.

The communication bloomed one night though

All smiles and kind thoughts and home comforts

Each well worded line then several days old

Pray not to confuse nor confound, just lay low

In the dark now thinking where did the days go?

Out of sight, a pixelated memoir

Blurred lines are a poor boundary.

That one night in a cold January

An old robot rebooted and fed oil

Took his steps through the cold air and cold soil

Found a feeling that felt old

A story already told and re-told, he knew the ending

But he clung to it, childlike to a mother.

Words in ink, and old clothes

How they bring it all back like a reverie

All those stares across spaces a fond memory

Sad smiles on some faces weigh heavily

Peach skies where the heavens used to be.

Now to live in the east and west

And to look in the mirror that used to gleam

Considering what might but never would have been

Sat bathed in the white light of a phone screen

In the dark room a face as white as a white sheet

Thinking this poem is too prosaic

Thinking this time is being wasted

That there’s no love for those who won’t face it

What will become of the moon when the sun has faded?

And what if we had made it?

Gone are the days that shaped us

Gone is the future I contented to reinvent

Now lost to the Lord

With the happy haunts we used to frequent

The dives from which all knowings and feelings rise

And the diamonds I believe once shone in your eyes

Battered and drowned by the riptide

Another smile untied

I wish you a long life.

Reviews

[Ken Simm.]

Excellent story poem with a strong narrative. I enjoyed the atmosphere created here.

[Leslie Philibert]

Like this ; a poem with a strong narrative thread ... fine write.

[Derekv]

Excellent imagery, and a fantastic piece. I always enjoy reading a poem that draws me in and allows me to visualize the meanings behind it.

Keep up the great work!

-Derekv

[Coyote Poetry]

Honest and direct words shared my friend.
"Thinking this poem is too prosaic
Thinking this time is being wasted
That there’s no love for those who won’t face it
What will become of the moon when the sun has faded?"
The above lines. Real thoughts with great meaning. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[John the Baptist]

Summons Ezra Pound to mind.