A Ruin Of Love

A tediously long, long poem about that tedious human condition we all know as: Is it better to have loved and lost….blah, blah, blah.

PREFACE:  As a rule I don’t like poetry that is barefaced narrative. Especially when it runs on and on as this does. I believe really good poetry uses a minimum of words to beautifully, mysteriously create a far bigger story, far bigger emotions than what could be expected from the word count. So how do I explain this piece of crap?  All I can say is I recently joined a local writing club where I let slip a bit of memory, and all requested to hear this story. I began writing and it just got away from me. However it IS 90% true experience, perhaps 10% fiction. When I think about it, isn’t that how most of us live our lives, a portion just a fiction? We are lucky if the fictitious part is only 10%.

A Ruin of Love

So you read poetry

Dear readers.

I suppose you all therefore,

Each and every one,

Think you know Love.

Fools all I say.

I sneer at all your puppy love hearts,

Your attempts at love in fits and starts,

Until to each there comes the day,

You count the lines around your eyes,

And find they match the sad goodbyes

Of every lover come and gone.

Do you then stop and listen?

Do you then finally hear

The whisper of your drowning heart,

Perhaps it’s greatest fear,

Was it never,

Ever,

Really love?

But wait,

As you trawl the wreckage of your past,

I see the single fallen tear

When you seize upon a time at last,

Long lost, not long, far short a year,

Nonetheless a priceless treasure,

Endless made by love’s sweet measure,

That single high school summer long ago.

Transistor radios,

Long days at the lake,

Salt tasting kisses

Yours for the take.

A half tank of gas,

In the day’s fading light,

Roaming in romance,

Long drives in the night.

Acid and vinyl,

Bike rides on speed,

A blanket by the river,

Her blue eyes and weed.

Along country lanes and

Forest paths walking,

Holding hands tightly,

Teasing and talking.

Sweet secret trysts 

Of teen sweat and lust,

Flesh pressed in trust 

Of love forever.

Or was it never,

Ever,

Really love?

Ok, wait,

You got me.

Those are my memories.

If you’re angry now,

Want to leave,

I understand.

It’s probably for the best.

But wait,

Maybe read a little further,

Just a little more.

It may be you will know me.

It may be I know you.

There are so very few of us,

Men and women both I’m sure,

Playthings of the gods of Love,

Some of us endure.

I will tell you of a woman

Who fell from afar,

Who blazed into my life

Just like a shooting star.

She set my days afire,

I was stricken by her glance.

Mad with desire,

I danced a dervish dance.

But I get ahead of myself.

Perhaps you are asking

Just how it was we met.

Lonely and alone,

I met her on the net.

First a photo posted 

For all the world to see,

Her lovely visage whispered

A thousand words to me.

Just a photo of a woman,

A figure lithe and tall,

eyes a hint of blue,

Hair a long, blond fall,

She stood erect, unposed,

Relaxed and composed,

Her picture as if taken

By a passing jinn 

When she heard him shout

 Patricia hey!

She raised her chin,

She looked his way.

A thousand words it whispered,

Woke me in the night.

Whispered, whispered, whispered,

Those whispers made me write.

I crafted words to praise,

Others to caress.

I felt myself a fool 

I truly must confess.

Not only was she beautiful,

She lived a thousand miles away,

Imagine my surprise and glee.

She wrote me back the selfsame day.

So quickly she became my muse 

Across that thousand miles.

I sent to her a thousand words.

To me she sent back smiles.

I felt like an astronomer, 

Who sights a comet so afar,

Who thus may give it name and claim

For oneself a long-tailed star.

This creature oh so rare

Who no man could ever own,

Surprised me when she threw a bone,

Let me give her my pet name,

A choosing of my own:

Annie.

Full stop.

Let me tell you about yesterday.

My written words a wild wind,

My heart made now a cavern,

I rubbed my eyes with pain,

I yawned, lay down my pen, 

A hopping and a skip then,

Quick I made to local tavern.

Bad in need of drink was I,

Useless yet I had to try,

To drown the past in beer and rye,

To give me back tomorrow 

When I could rise from sleepless bed

No longer sheathed in sheets of sorrow.

The barmaid kept them coming,

I was headed for my wish.

Then she threatened to expel me,

Said I shouted very loud

F**k you, you stupid useless b***h.

Despite the count of empty glasses

Barroom talk of conquered lasses

Chatting with that boozy lot

I could not pry her from my thought.

Yeah that b***h, Patricia.

Oops, I mean Annie!

So I bought the place a round

Hoping that would quell her sound,

Turned around to new friend Butch.

Drink up I said and

Raised my glass,

There’s something I must really ask,

Were you ever

Once or never

In your useless life

You useless f**k,

Struck so brutal,

Struck by luck, 

(Up to you to name it good or bad)

A luck so strong 

It strung you on,

Tore your life to shreds,

Scattering in pieces 

 The peace you thought you had?

To my surprise 

I saw his eyes

Take on a certain glare.

But all he did was stare and speak:

What the f**k you talkin’ about 

You stupid Mick freak?

A woman, man, a woman

And I pointed round the room.

Those useless cows, you dreary man

Therein lies your doom.

Oh boy, don’t I know it 

He said with a laugh.

But to my misfortune

Someone did not like my gaff.

Ok that’s it!

A voice behind me said.

Now I guess you’re a guessin’

Where my wise words led.

Seized by both my arms,

I was lifted from the floor,

I tried to lodge a protest

While being thrown out the door

Into a black and raining night

With nose so soon in gutter,

I swear I heard an evil mutter

Annie, Annie, Annie.

But back to the story boys,

Love in all its glory.

Drunken, mad with love we fell,

Drank the weeks like wine.

We each confessed possession 

With every written line.

Upon a train she finally came.

I had booked a seaside room.

So sweetly did we finally meet.

So sweet began my doom.

That eve we walked the empty streets

Searching for our dinner,

And lucked upon an open door

In that quiet time of winter.

We were seated to ourselves,

The last guests for the night.

Bewitched, bemused I searched her eyes,

I sought her smile in candlelight.

Our hosts played vintage jazz

And when I read her glance,

Read her heart, took her hand,

Up we rose to dance.

Later after closer dance,

We talked into the night.

Trading words, hands held tight,

Nothing ever felt so right.

In the lovely days to follow,

Hand in hand we walked the town.

We spoke of life, spoke of art,

Nothing could have made me frown.

So perfectly we fit, 

So certain did our fate seem writ.

Night nor day no hour apart,

I offered her my soul.

She gave me those few days.

I thought she gave her heart.

This woman only found in books,

Everything I ever wanted,

Left by train the way she came,

Leaving my heart ever haunted.

Reviews

[Starr]

This is quite an amazing write, very vivid imagery, nicely expressed write

[Michael Sun Bear]

Thank you for the kind words. It took me three weeks to write, then when attempting to create a duplicate for my permanent files, something went wrong, and all but one single word evaporated, just gone. After fruitlessly searching every corner of every app on my iPad, as well as the Apple backup, I said to myself just let it go, fate is fate. But the writer in me couldn’t let go and after several days of my anger stewing, I rewrote it from memory which took another five days. So I really appreciate the kind words you and Thomas have given me, helping me to feel the work was worth it.

[Thomas W Case]

Brilliant work. You paint this scene well. You bring it to life.

[Michael Sun Bear]

Thank you Thomas for the flattering words. Very appreciated.