You can't return from where you left.

Old poem from 1993 with a re-write

                              You can't return from where you left

(A Poet, is one, who believes and one who cannot bring himself to believe.--Tadeusz Rozewics)

I'm watching the waves dance on the Monterey Bay in my favorite Irish Pub. The drink is good and the company demand little and asked no questions. I'm 3000 mile away my Winter woman and the distance isn't enough to erase her memory. Even the powerful Pacific ocean can't make me forget her beautiful face and her long legs. The tragedy of touching bare skin and tender fingertips against us. We demand and need more. When we bathe in the sweetness of kisses and promises made. When we whispered hidden secrets never to be born again. Drink and song will not allow us to forget.  I'm California dreaming and I'm wishing for things lost and cannot be found.

I roamed to one of the Sin cities. I love Reno, Nevada. People are pretending to be someone else and few show real face. I play the games and I drink the free drinks. Beautiful women are everywhere. Lofty ladies wanting payment for sharing warmth with no true payment. I refrain from them because in their gestures of kindness make me  see your soft face near and I drift back to your memory. A woman with your clear blue eyes sat with me, she made me feel weak and I felt like a man lost in a nightmare of never knowing peace. I want to call you, but I know. You cannot return from where you left.

I escape to New York city. I'm trying to find Cohen in the city of 10 million souls. I read poetry in dark poetry houses. They call me the dark Poet. Women wearing black and their body are landscapes of wild and perfect skin come to me. They liked me and I liked them. People who need little can find peace in the salvation of embrace without cost. I read my poetry to generous audience and an pretty girl asked me after. If you loved her so. Why did you release her? Your poetry sweat of her memory. I told her. Sweet love is for the lucky. Dead love and forgotten places are forever tattoos on our skin and heart. I sat alone in the darkness of the New York city night. I whispered. I have not forgotten your face.

I returned to Michigan. I went to her home and I sat in the car. I saw her from a distance and I knew. Neglected love crumbled and we eat the past with delicate spoon. I left my dear love without a words or goodbye. I sat in a Ann Arbor tavern and I whispered. To you my love, you are my only sweetness felt in a life filled with madness and wild journey with no ending.

                                    John Castellenas/Coyote

 

Author's Note

Just words

Reviews

[Ehra Khan]

This is an absolutely divine piece of work.I haven't been here in a long time and this is the first thing I read. It's got so much emotion, depth and truth in it. The essence of true love has been described beautifully. And the vocabulary is fab! I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. Thanks for sharing! :)

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Inaya. I'm glad you are back. I enjoyed your poetry also.

[Ehra Khan]

Thank you too:)

[Matching Socks]

It is sad but we must always keep moving on and looking around the corner. It's hard to shake those regrets. We have people that come into our lives, at the wrong time maybe - even though they are the right people. This was very moving. Your words always touch the heart.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Ana. One of my older poems. Old memories become less painful with distance and time.

[Matching Socks]

Yes, they do. You're welcome. I always enjoy reading yours.

[Daisie Vergara (Dhaye)]

Yes, I do believe it is not easy to return from the one you neglected.
This is sad. Thank you for the share.

[Coyote Poetry]

I believe we learn young. We pay for our sins and karma is a fair judge. Thank you Dhaye for reading and the comment.

[wordman]

john,such a sad and profound write,true life is always the most colorful poetry

[Coyote Poetry]

You are right my friend. Life teaches us to appreciate the good days and forget the bad. Thank you for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.

[wordman]

always a pleasure