Requiem for the 24th January 1968

The things some people do!

By Stanley Collymore

 

There was that first rush of heady excitement tempered

periodically by the contemplative reflection on what

the consequences could be but which was always

recklessly brushed aside by the energizing

dangers inherent in our joint and at

times irresponsible actions.

But lust camouflaged

as love does tend

to act that

way.

 

Forty three years on the folly of it all speaks eloquently

for itself; but that aside we’ve both survived the

inferno of deep-seated passions, personal

conflicts and even the mirthful

remembrances of those early halcyon days, seemingly

so at the time, that sensibly were always destined

to end the way they have done; completely

avoidable if we’d only stopped for a

moment and seriously thought

about what we were doing.

 

But real life isn’t about regrets or what might have been,

or conveniently whingeing about misfortunes: real or

imaginary. Nor realistically is it about revenge or

getting even for those reverses sustained in our

life, since to do so would effectively mean

allowing someone else, consciously or

even unknowingly so, to dictate the

tempo as well as determine the

agenda of our life. I haven’t

or will I ever permit that

to happen to me!

 

The experience however gained from our ill-fated

relationship together has been invaluable none

the less in helping me to positively determine

who and what I actually wanted to be and

ultimately became. And without malice

or any trace of bitterness I’ll raise a

glass of Mount Gay Rum: Barbados and the

world’s oldest and finest, specifically to

January 24, 1968 and the Top of the

World Ballroom in Stafford,

Central England with the toast:

“I looked danger in the eye,

refused to blink and won

the day. I survived!

 

© Stanley V. Collymore

24 January 2011.

 

 

Footnote:

The road to hell is often paved with good intentions, and not least among them is unthinkingly falling in love and impropitiously following that up with marriage.

 

This poem was inspired by the escapades of Doreen, Dora, Hazel, Agnes, Dot, Margaret and the rest of the members of this close-knit, serial adulterous, Top of the World aficionado, female gang, circa 1968 plus.