Jazz piano and where you left me

I am still haunted in the morning light,

in the middle of the night and my wayward sleeping spells,

in the late night movies, in the sound of long-distance connections

through a midnight payphone across the street

from a busy bar.

 

You are in the shadows behind

the sound of my heels in an empty parking lot

past every make,

model,

and car

 

You linger in misty glass,

shower steam and the dreamy state

before coffee,  even

after a long day at the office and the minute

I come home

and slip off my shoes,

when I’d ring you -

and you’d chime like bells

we’d meet

in one place, one place only

same as now,  except only imagination lingers

like soft percussion

and tipsy fingers across piano keys

I think that’s where you left

me.

 

 

Reviews

[Alessander]

this is good, and you know how hard it is for me to say that! lol The beginning with the long sentence full of restrictive clauses really builds up the anticipation and a sort of desperate fumbling, which really sets the tone.

I also like the images/metaphors/similes you make in this poem - I think this is your best use of them yet. It's all consistent too (with the exception of "past every make model and car" - I thought that cliche, even though I know that it connects with the parking lot).

another reviewer stated that he likes "tipsy fingers", but I don't. I think "tipsy" may imply inebration, but I think a stronger adjective needs to be there.

But that's just small stuff. Ending is great - the uncertainty and faint, almost indescipherable longing comes through.

[Anxelin]

wow WHO are you? this was amazingly good...
thankyou

[Angelheaded Hipster]

Lola...I have missed your words, I have missed your ability to tinker with the words that play across the page just so.

Its amazing what a person can do for the writer...the artist....people dont come along everyday to leave faint traces of themselves...

[D.R. Wilsey Jr.]

Your word choice and flow make this piece an incredible read. Amazing images.

[Christopher Todd Dallas]

You've captured a fast-paced and engrossing stream-of-conscious.
The midnight pay phone under sodium vapor lamps and perhaps the phantom ring and should I answer a random call or is it actually meant for me? Always an engaging vignette.
"tipsy fingers" - I like the unique modifier.

I'll post a piece called, "Haute Tension" in response/homage to your Jazz Piano. It's a stream-of-conscious style piece.

And I'll post a second one about that phone. It's called, "Dial-tone."

I'm interested in reading the rest of your work.

[celyn]

This is lonely but beautiful..
You fit words together perfectly.

[Emily B]

the first line was perfect . . . that simple statement described so many places I've found myself "I am still haunted" . . .

and the rest was just as impressive.

[Kenny L. Mitchell]

Wow lady. Impressive. Quite impressive! You painted a picure that turned to melodic tunes in my head. It's like I could hear someone reciting these words at a piano bar. Very vivid imagery lady. Kudos!

[Scott A. Williams]

You have this power, see, to take images and phrases that, in another person's poem, would just sit there: you peel them open and make them work, and work hard, and you make it seem natural. "You are in the shadows behind the sound of my heels." "You linger in misty glass," and the last several lines. Cripes. What more can be said?

[Jibey]

Sweet nostalgia, honest appraisal of the place of meeting, sad lingering...