PC (7th October The Summer of Love / Leeds)

A New Writing Room

A new writing room
To write out all my gloom
My love, my light
The endless night
Can now be filled

From here I can see
Multiple windows of multiple neighbours
Cars, seagulls, three full-bodied trees
Foxes on scavenger hunts
Squirrels between wheels
The sun on the rooftops
And then there was you.

Strange bird waiting at the window
What are you looking for?
The cat climbs slowly beneath you
Makings its way up your wall
A glimpse of a bare foot
Through opened glaze
From here I can gaze

As the stories of the street
Unravel before me
The cat has gone now
Yet still you wait
Your back to the world
Looking within
To see who’ll come in

Later now and strange bird guest
Must have found his nest
Or alternatively given up on his quest
For the tenant that has pulled their blind
Or is strange bird within?
Snuggled in strange love nest?

Under the duvet
Wrapped with the cat, the hat, the man and the she
Oh yeh and now there’s me
And he
And strange bird
At least in my head
Internal drama

Reflected out of my window onto the world
I see, which is only me - which is the world
And like Alice I fall deep down into the hole
Too big too small
She had it all
Even the wicked witch heart queen
I’m still living a dream
I fabricated from faded rose books
Of fairy tales, volumes of crimson
Of yellow, of red and of blue
With dashings of brothers Grimm weaved in
It’s no wonder I sin

I fear

I wait for that damn prince
Who’s always on a distant horizon
Rather than right here with me
Way too real
For a girl lost in a dream
Of a world that never existed
But inside her own head
The loneliness choked

The grief for the dream
Was endless it seemed

Self-pity squeem

Days later return to my post
Following the trails of mother’s ghost
I spill words out into lines
And hope they make some kind of sense
Am I any less crazy than she?
Time alone will tell this to me.

I lost my girl, as she lost me
Eighteen and we never could see
Eye to eye
Too alike you see
Her and me

Yet time passes this life is always in flux
Must let go of my need to keep things the same
Feel I can’t take no more losses
Then just when I’m not looking
God tosses
A real low ball
Taking my legs out from under me again
Just as I was getting used to being able to stand up straight
He slaps me back down
I see god as abusive
I need to see god as love
I need to forgive god
I need the courage to face the low balls.

Petra Creffield 2005

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Comments (1)

So much happens where we write. You put a lot into this poem and it shows. I'm so glad I got to read it. Peace, L&T