THAT DARK PLACE.

A WOMAN TRIES TO LAY GHOST WHERE EVER HER EX LOVER HAS BEEN AND WHATEVER HE'S TOUCHED.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is that dark
Memory of
The same place still,
Despite the ghost

 

Laying and the
Frequent visits.
He’s there in the
Bars and cafés

 

And cinemas
And theatres and
On the benches
Along the beach

 

Or on the sands
Or in the sea.
He’s in nearby
Conversations

 

Of people you
Do not know, in
The faces of
Men who pass by

 

Now and then, in
The laughter, in
The rows, he’s there
Even when you

 

Sit alone in
The room having
A smoke or drink
Or in the bath

 

Soaking out the
Days’ blues and dirt,
He’s there on the
Bed, waiting with

 

That grin that come
And get me look,
That deep down sick
Cruelty and

 

Betraying stare.
Yes, he’s still there.
Despite all the
Going to old

 

Places, laying
Ghosts and thinking
Not of him but
Others at home

 

Or old friends in
Paris, New York
And Rome. The dark
Memory is

 

Still there, he’s there,
All that he touched
And tainted wears
His stain, his mark

 

His bluesy bruise.
You want him gone
From your mind and
Memory; from

 

The hurt of flesh
And bone; you want
All that’s had his
Feel, breath, words and

 

Lies and stinging
Betrayal gone,
Defunct, kaput,
Depleted. There

 

Is the time to
Turn over and
Switch off the light
Hoping he won’t

 

Be there in your
Black dreams tonight.

Reviews

[Terry Collett]

This woman's speaks to my Muse. I do not know how it turns out. I feel for her.Thank you for reading & your comments.

[just rose.]

I almost wonder if this one ends best at the bluesy bruise -- the freshness and meter to my ear is not as strong after that. Throughout though the theme sustains of that ache - before I deleted my stuff the first time (do you see some parallels here, of wanting to eradicate) I had a similar poem up treating the theme of the taunting objects and reminisces of a lost love, and so the theme is dear to my heart. As always with this character throughout this suite of poems associated with this photograph, I feel her sense of journey and renewal beneath all the anger and pain. There's just a hint of that, like a seed under the snow, but as the series progresses one finds onself really rooting for her to come through the storm.