The City

It is a city with its lurid lights lavishing upon the night

Products hawked in gaudy neon

Street lamps form uniform circles upon the pavement

And traffic signals repeat themselves across the landscape

A man with flat eyes pulls a blanket about him

And clutches his dog, he puts his shoes beside him

As if remembering when he had a bed

W****s mingle by the fire plug and eye the traffic

Their dignity sold by the hour

And I walk there toward the same places

As every night

 

Jimmy told me that you came to the café

Even though you asked him to say nothing of your visit

He said you sat at our table and read a book

He took your order of a coffee and asked about me

And he said you looked very sad in that moment and shrugged

And so each night I walk past the café windows

Peering in like a street urchin and praying

To see your face or that you will look up to see mine

But you are not there

And the excitement of hope drains from me like wet ashes

 

I go to St. Joseph’s in the village

And sit in the dark corner below the choir loft

Hoping you will come as we did each Sunday

But you do not.  You do not come

And I am happy to be in church

To pray for you, that blessings fill your days

And that I might be one of them

Then it is the garish flat where we knew love

To sit by the window and watch the night

Gather in the city like a troubled infant

And to dream of a soft knock at the door

And for our love to come home

Reviews

[Anu Biswas]

It's like reading an entire book in three most poignant verses. I am a fan of yours forever DrD. You are like Coelho in poetry.

[DrD]

Falttery will get you everywhere with me, Anu. Thank you so much.

[Eve]

The write in itself is beautiful and haunting, but I also love to read how your writes affect the poets reading them, you seem to effect them the same way you have done me, it's the real quality in each one, the small nuances of life or of memories that brings them to life for us, the us sitting behind the scene, the screen reading your life with such fascinated reverence.

[DrD]

One day, Myth . . . . believe me, one day you will have experiences that become who you are and you will live them every day thereafter. It's called love.

[Cryingkate]

I just love the million ways you can find new descriptions for the mundane and dress them so Beautifully. You have a way of turning the most simplest things into something.
I admire the way you use the story of "The City" as a cover for your walk thru life always looking and searching for ways to keep her alive and the Love with you.
The feeling of being in a crowd of people that you do not want to be around even disgusted with."No one can take her place" feeling frustrated.
Nice Job ! All around

[DrD]

Thank you,Kate and I still walk there sometimes and still search.

[Cryingkate]

Doc, Why do we do that? Why do we haunt the same old places? What is it we really hope to find? Surely we don't really expect to find them. Is it closure we seek? Is it just the missing part of us that we let go of when the Mate was gone? There has to be a reason we don't see that takes us to places of the mind that we know better. Or is it the stubbornness to hold every detail and refuse to let go the only way we can. Do you know?

[DrD]

I don't want to know, Kate. It would take the purity away from it.

[Cryingkate]

I think you are correct Doc. Sometimes I do over analyze,
When the time is right we will know all things.

[J. J. Nightingale]

I stopped waiting
But my heart just kept on
Love kissed me softly
Them slapped me hard
So I stopped waiting
But my heart
But this heart
Could not ..

Tears fall for chances lost .. there you go pulling on those heart strings again.
Reminding me to never give up on Love ..

The Woman, Jasmine xxx