Do you

a conversation

remember how we usta sit

on the stone staircase by the liquor store

across the street from the specific ocean

late at night, ruminating and medicating

under a partly-cloudy sky?

 

how the minutes turned to hours

and the darkness into day as we toasted Shakespeare and

the power of literature,

the politics of war

and the glory of mead.

 

remember how we watched the world walk by

wondering how so many couldn’t see what was falling apart,

while our hearts thundered at

the outrage of apathy.

 

never mind our complicity

in the compromises made-

such a notion nineteen could not comprehend.

 

in the end, Time conquers and enthusiasm fades

as we take our place among the living dead. the rent is due,

the car won’t start and all that is left of youth

is the memory of the possibilities, the hopes left behind

on a stone staircase by the liquor store.   

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

Powerful yet thoughtful truth.. no hidden thoughts here but the raw moment by moment realism that young people see before they're near forced to 'behave' or go 'overboard' . Your finish is as near a biography that a few near tragic sentences can be.

' in the end, Time conquers and enthusiasm fades
as we take our place among the living dead. the rent is due,
the car won’t start and all that is left of youth
is the memory of the possibilities, the hopes left behind
on a stone staircase by the liquor store.'

You write superbly, This was written way back.. wish you were still posting in here.

[Emily B]

nice to visit an old friend on stone steps behind the liquor store . . . nice to visit words I have visited before

[Markymark]

I saw a review you did of Bridgwood and thought you might be worth a read. I like this. Poetry captured in a moment and withdrawn from a bank of memories, penned as it comes forth is the best kind. Yes! The last stanza is a fitting conclusion:

in the end, Time conquers and enthusiasm fades
as we take our place among the living dead. the rent is due,
the car won’t start and all that is left of youth

Youth is seemingly eternally vivacious, and carefree. It seems at the time, it will go on forever, but life comes at you fast.

Kudos on the write--

Mark

[Sweet_pale_cacophony]

how a moment can be a poem in itself..thank you for writing it as it is..nothing more nothing less..:)

[SparrowPoet]

Again, very cool! kind of reminds me of charles bukowski.

[Brighid an Lasair]

I think everyone feels this at some point, and you've captured it perfectly; those moments when you long for the way things were, the passion, the dreams, but realize as an adult so many of those things aren't realistic in the world we live in. It's a sobering reminder of how life often plays out against our will. Great write, this is one for the shelf.

[...]

. it can't be that bad ... it can't ... is it delusional to chase dreams and experience the feeling of inching closer towards them? ... i hope not ... what a powerful write! ... it cuts, shreds and slices ... just amazing ...

[Panda]

I really enjoyed this poem, and you are right. In the end, all we have is memories of youth, as we get older it seems all those "good times" just fade away as our responsibilities become greater. So we should live life while we can, huh?

This is a really great poem, you did a wonderful job!

[Dane Osborne]

This was an excellent and impressive piece. Some impressive phrasing and vibe. Kudos!

[darkgurl]

This is such an emotional write. Easy to understand. I like this even though towards the end it feels sort of sad.

[truth]

This is great - good structure but most of all a range of contexts and stories all rolled into one. I love it - I really like - never mind our complicity

in the compromises made-

such was a notion nineteen could not comprehend.