Occasionally I will present some writings from my past. Here is a piece I wrote in the late 60s or early 70s:
Remember When
Lying here listening to the tick of the clock,
I remember how we shared this bed.
The cracks in the ceiling are still there.
The neighbor's radio still blares in the night.
I heard that someone poisoned the cat
Who used to visit us early each morning.
The last rose you gave me slouches,
Wilting in the Chianti bottle on the card table.
You know...... I don't like taking showers alone.
© JCZ
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2 comments:
Hi James
Sophie might have got the prize for first comment, so I'm going for commenting on the first post. I think this - and the other poem are great. I like nice short meaningful poems (I like long ones too, but short ones are easier to read).
I have to confess though, it made us laugh for totally the wrong reasons. The mother-in-law who once insisted on waking us up and talking incessantly for over an hour and then saying out of the blue: "Oh does the ticking of the clock annoy you?" (No, but it would have been far preferable to listening to her), and our Spanish neighbours' quaint habit of leaving the tv on at full blast and then falling asleep until 2am. Ah well. I guess Remember When can mean so many things.
Kate
(my Just Land Rover alter ego rather than Katherine and Pippa blogs)
Thanks, Kate. I appreciate your comments.
Glad that this piece stimulated some memories for you. It made you laugh. Great! Poetry can be very personal but if it catches someone else's imagination so much the better.
Just like a piece of art, writing can be interpreted in some many ways given the environment in which it is read.
Thanks again.
James
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