I’d resorted to using a website
For lack of natural introductions,
(a curse of a more modern age).
In my naïveté, I thought it more honest,
A chance for virtual reciprocation,
or, where a tangible love could bloom.
So, after searching for the right date site
(and this took much procrastination!)
I found one with feasible Connections,
And that’s when I found you.
I’d shilly-shallied before I ‘waved’
(I felt mechanical in my deliberations)
Heart stomping: ‘This? Antithesis of romance!’
I’d ruled out the sexagenarian,
He had Viagra, but owned no notion
Of what is to be Christian.
And the posh man with the Porsche,
(He earned 70K, and had just won a promotion)
But challenged my personal belief in creation.
You: the frankness of your emails wooed me,
(and, you were blasé about your diction)
You had me, when you texted me in the afternoon.
But then, on iMessage you confused me;
Silence. A sudden loss of basic communication.
Should I Skype you, to find you? Or Vibre, or Text?
No heart-full words on WhatsApp, and we’d not Facebooked.
Oh! Remember when we had one phone?
When there was just one answer machine?
The red light either blinked, or it didn’t.
We have a plethora of forms for expression
In twenty first C – your silence scares me,
I really like you. But, you’re just not into me.
(Inspired by the film, ‘He’s just not that into you’)
Two years ago i found out my husband of five months had cheated on me. Happy Anniversary:
Your eyes disappointed me most.
What I mistook for deep wells of honesty,
Were actually fathomless pools of regret.
And, each declaration you bestowed on me
Was your own, furtive lament.
Now i bow to you, awesome piece of work.
And though mascara peppers the porcelain
I think: how clever you have been,
to use that same mouth for her and me
And not stumble on the intent.
Your deception was so profound,
not even the altar could alter it.
Your words still sit like bile on water,
Dirty consequences of your infidelity
Fixed in my heart like cement.
Oh yes, I bow because of you,
Not the last debasement I ever do.
Wine wretched stomach retching,
And a topsy-turvy salute,
To love that came and went.
Cars and buses, feet on wet pavement,
Swoosh, tap, pace, and rap.
And you, oblivious to time, you lament
At dark windows, docking your cap.
Dapper old man in your battered suit,
Aiming your lighter toward your fag,
A story set in your own head, you salute
All that is familiar to you; a sad,
Weathered building in Muswell Hill.
Lights green, clutch off, and off,
I launch myself into now, and still
Seeing you, rush from all that was silent.
Trapped in my bracelet.
The hazard of one.
Struggle to put on,
Hassle to get off.
I need a firm hand,
To caress my wrist,
In the removal
Of this bracelet.
I’m a bit crap at resolutions, me
I try to find the fusion you see
Between easy, with something impressive
That will raise an eyebrow, or two
I try to allude to tenacity
But in the end my resolve to be
– good melts, like the ice in a baileys dream.
Or, disappears – like my running shoes…(ahem)
It’s something about Willpower..and me.
The two of us – we have no intimacy.
So I steer clear, avoid the exertion
Of beating myself up..or putting me, down.
So! It’s fruitless, and I think you’ll agree
That me, and a resolution will not see
Eye to eye; with an exception of one.
To laugh hard, and often…and mostly at me…
I’ll allow the tv to collect dust;
Fame, drama, lust and celebrity;
White noise, no poise just
Do not bring you nearer to me.
I’m putting a curb on my tongue;
Lies, gossip, fake intimacy
Dark fun – all leave hearts stung
and, does not bring you nearer to me.
I’ll stick to these resolutions.
New Year, trite promises see
Habits stricken, love proven;
A chance to bring you nearer to me.
I’m erecting a fence around my heart;
Gated, protected. A place to be
Me; with more of you. To start
Afresh, and bring you nearer to me.
I blame laughter and Sauvignon Blanc;
Friday night, an inept DJ.
I wonder how you read my misspelled words.
Did they whisper or shout at 2am?
Mute in the light; grey and painful,
Each idiom deciphered, pored over.
Now expectancy fills the space in my chest,
Heavy and humid like my damp flat.
Present residue, just as unwelcome.
Your silence is unfamiliar; jarring as a 10cc engine.
Immersed in the pounding silence,
I realise…it matters. It saps the energy to shrug.
Another minute goes by, void of you.