I remember you from a former life,
from a track
ran by road-youths.
before adult reality’s claxton,
screamed our cease.
In my mind I still
Visit you.
We never drifted.
There was no loss,
no flood of blood,
washing away your innocence.
poem
Good Morning
Half a cup of 20 second brewed tea
the rest poured through the sink
from my wide lipped enamel cup.
My allocated snooze-time the victor, overrunning this morning.
The lone seat left is a child’s naughty step
At the tram’s front facing the wall.
Flying passed crossed junctions with Warsan Shire, Frank O’Hara and Seamus in toe.
Today’s a steely blue
like those eyes that seem to just look right through you…
picking apart your thoughts before they leave your lips.
A cheeky wave to Amaal as I ascend
to the 1st floor where I see the little bees filing in.
Their heads bowed, hands concealed,
rolling lint
remnant of the tissue they forgot in the wash.
Hyacinth
You see
It lies in the false titles
given to those that bear the fruit.
To gain a recognition for deeds done,
the end goal not always in sight.
See… the warmth is blue,
a sombre heat without light
A form of cold pragmatism,
through exchanges of pregnant love.
You see directions are issued,
But to what end should that suffice?
We don’t all crave a destination, but instead
to be hooked – within two arms.
Paris
Close I see
curling tides of crimson hue
not in my name, though
bereft of what to do.
Victoria
I catch you just as you slyly slink away,
the hideously trendy homme across, next
to you – peering to our volly of glances,
His Cos demeanor cool
underpinned
by his atrocious cut chinos.
The deep rumble hurtles us along
the Victoria line -London’s blue artery,
it’s horizon a convincing night’s impression.
They were green
Or perhaps hazel
Our waltzing glances stealing covert gazes, Each a
second shy of a moment.
We Say Goodbye
We say goodbye,
our eyes rosed and tender,
our hands falling apart.
as I part -whispering a kiss
on your tear laced cheek.
J.C. FitzDerick 