'One Love'

 

Ten horrific years wormed into our minds

like nightmares – slaughter, sentences, sacrifice –

but always there was music. Wicklow,

late nineties, a guitar against the denim thigh

of your jeans, your feet stretched out

into foothills green with May, flourishing trees.

You say, one love, one life, when it's one need

in the night, one love, we get to share it…

 

Years on, an autumn eve, we sing that same tune,

We get to carry each other, carry each other.

She sits on a stool, brimful of dreams, looks up

with Celtic dark eyes, like a drum, only half discerned,

she is this friendship group’s heartbeat.

It’s the small things: the way we’ll run to the shop

for one another, or share the half-light as we stoke

that caffeine high to discuss our desperate dreams

 

or buy an extra round so a hard-up friend’s not left

humiliated. We are two strands of ivy, intertwined.

Our world has quietened. A stone wall leans into an outcrop

of grass, with us on top in the solace of a dawn that slakes

all hurt as the morn wakes. The fire is all burnt out

and once again we only have each other. Now she is gone,

we miss those little things and ‘One’ becomes her eulogy.

 

Reviews

[Collect-Eye]

The richness and texture of this piece really counterbalances the sadness of the subject matter.
Maybe counterbalance is the wrong word..but I'm in no position to speculate, as i don't know the whole story. I'm just a stranger glimpsing into a personal tale..my mind is so abstract I can even read into this allegorically. i mean no disrespect in regards to a true story..just an observation from the standpoint of the unity of the word itself.
I admire how you sort of lean into the subject itself very slowly until the very end..I'm imagining that took great courage and patience and vision.
Great timing and dynamics.
I rambled a bit..hope it made sense.

John

[Hedra Helix]

damn, its late and im all reviewed out but daaamn pretty much covers it, daaaamn.

"It's the small things: the way we'll run to the shop
for one another, or share the half-light as we stoke
that caffeine high to discuss our desperate dreams

or buy an extra round so a hard-up friend's not left
humiliated"

strong strong strong, so much so when you leave off it makes it that much better- sentences that keep going in your wake- richer for the new notes/ideas you're already playing in. Bad a*s.

[mick weller]

'our desperate dreams...'
and how it all goes wrong
"one and one, is one"

[Brjden (Bridge-Den) Cre..]

This was a beautiful piece of poetry here! I love your descriptions and you do them seemingly effortless.

"...but always there was music. Wicklow,
late nineties, a guitar against the denim thigh
of your jeans, your feet stretched out...."

I ready with attention all the way through only to give my condolences to your lose. Great write!

[Gandré]

This is wonderful how you painted the closeness and even she is gone, the feeling of one still is there, we don't depart only the relationships between things stop to work, this was a sentimentality of folks, of centuries, and I felt that "spin,wind, or twist together, interwined ribbons and hearts". wonderful poem, my favorite was the last stanza, I loved them all. thanks for reding my poem See you in Tucana, much appreciated. This was beautiful nostalgy and lament at its finests.

[Donald Meikle]

well painted closeness of friends and times and consequence

[Nan]

You've expressed some beautiful emotions here Sel, and i like this portrait you've painted
of the singer who won't have a chance. The dynamic of the group comes through also except that
I get hung up in this line and it's because of syntax

A stone wall leans into an outcrop

of grass, and [with] us on top in the solace of a dawn that slakes

all hurt as the morn wakes

I would use "with" rather than "and" because it's a sweet image and it feels clearer to me.
It reminds me of a Celtic lyric, well done. You know I'm in a traditional Irish band now, so
the ballad of the folksinger is all of it to me. This is wonderful writing and I'm so glad to
have come by tonight.

Nan

[Emily B]

there are no words left to say . . .

you've said it all so well here.