I saw him passing by
a picture of sea and lazy sun
our eyes met in passion
but that was many yesterdays ago
and I never even learned his name
It's another bleak Saturday morning
all trees in town drip with warm rain,
in the distance, he hears
the whistle of the departing train...
while sadness and loneliness keep growing,
remembering his happy yesterdays of Gigolo
when he composed that song with a fast tempo.
His bleak moments spent alone dreaming
aren't those happy yesterdays of Gigolo,
they were cloudless and shone
with the brightest sun rising
from behind the hills gently swaying;
they brought warmth to his cold window!
Now, the flashbacks bring tons of tears
to the eyes of the loneliest guy
who can't let go of the sensual images,
can they forever linger on his troubled mind
and comfort him with a silly lie?
Is he willing to forget emotions without a bind?
His happy yesterdays of Gigolo were made
of adventure, of danger and infatuation;
he dreamed big, and he was awarded
a trophy for pleasing lusty women.
Now, he sits alone and grieves
with nothing to be proud of;
he gave up on divine love
to seek earthly pleasures.
Well, hey there!
I remember you, Christmas.
You’re the sights, sounds and tastes
of my dearest yesterdays.
Your hugs and laughter
have not ghostly passed
they are part of us - we’re imprinted.
Let’s dance and laugh at obsidian oblivions
celebrating as one
until time itself comes undone.
.
.
A song for this:
daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_19.mp3
The shuttlecock's not got a feather
my balls have lost their tether
yo-yo and hula hoop have gone for a loop
chasing rainbow's become a boring chore
in any kind of weather
and me I fling and fly frisbees no more
as now there's come the day
when games and music I can't play
the fiddle has a broken bow
out of wind such instruments
I know not how to blow
the guitar has no strings attached
the ukulele its self-same match
my drums I don't bang or bash
cymbals won't ride or crash
yet measure for measure
I treasure and love
the previously provided pleasure
by all of the above
"When yesterdays became devoid of compassion",
you became the reflection in my mirror—
the darkness that cast its shadows upon my walls,
the screams that woke me in the dead of night.
Reaching out, silhouettes dissipated into thin air.
When the clock approached the witching hour.
Nothing but my demons were there to keep me company.
Forked tongues whispered insecurities,
poison-dipped lies into bleeding ears,
twisting and contorting what remained
of a false saviour's psyche.
You see, I could not save you from the depths of pain you swam through.
It was pulling us both down, drowning us in murky waters,
choking and gagging on your sins—we kept sinking faster.
The blackness became heavier
until light could not pierce the veil.
Begging me, you pleaded, "Hold on to me just a little longer."
But the weight became unbearable.
I had to untie the rope around our fragile souls.
I had to let you go.
And now I drown in my own guilt
every time I take a tainted breath
in this distorted world.
The rich green leaves of Summer die in Autumn
like a love that is no more
both defenseless to the currents of change
tumbling toward an unfamiliar stream
flowing out of a sea
where yesterdays have already passed
carrying dusted memories, entwined by the twist of life
where wishes are hidden with lost stars
of memorialized misperceptions
having come and gone like vanishing time
when the shivering swathe arrived
taking both the leaves and love
on a hopeless journey to non-existence
when emotionless worlds acquired their life-blood
causing my eyes to flow with streams
out of a sea of sadness
orange red and purple
feeling of serenity
yesterdays twilight
For so long I’ve tried to live in yesterdays,
To be content to live in the past so I could
Cope with the sadness of these present days.
But I realize yesterdays can’t give me
The answers to the problems that face me.
The past is just the past and not reality.
The lives and emotions I felt back then,
Are lost and gone forever never to return again .
I’ve wasted so many years searching for an image that was gone so long ago
Knowing that forward is the path to follow.
To accept this new path with each new day
And stop living the memories of yesterdays.
There's a pile of sullied threads on the floor
from muddied quarrels of our yesterdays
Remnants of life that we stripped bare
like sheets from a bed needing laundering
It's a hoard of soiled and frayed toggeries
too foul from words to be properly cleansed
I thought of trying to bury the lot of it
but shoveling the hurt left blisters on my hands
Invasive memories haunt many of my dreams
They are suffused deep within my thoughts
An inured scent of us will linger, unbleached, abused
like worn jeans as long as they remain unwashed
How long before I can ignore them lying there
gathered and rumpled in an alcove in my mind
Dark stains that only bring me pain and discontent
Too tainted to be purified by dirty human hands
Yesterdays flowers
On the road to Bolequeime on the way to the German supermarket that sells proper Teutonic sausages
the flowers of yesterday sitting on white plastic chairs, in high heels and shorts
Sometimes, a car stops, not a man in a white van
mostly a big car with tinted windows, an important
the person on his way to his office
A quick blow-job, nothing much else to do in a car
and no one needs to undress
The car speeds off, and the flowers of yesterday go
back to her plastic chair and rinse her mouth
water that cannot be called holy
They used to, the women sitting here, look exotic
expensive hotel lobbies and fine food
They are too old to still be on the job, but there
are no pension schemes for them
They had their chance, but life was too exciting
and no?
1
evening sunlight on a wall
echo conversations of unheard voices
an empty chair rocks slowly
recollection reimagines pictures of love
inner sensations melt into melancholy
That was yesterday.
I forgot.
If I could…
I would have just done the laundry.
It’s afternoon.
The moon came out already.
It does that sometimes.
After the moon, I eat.
Laundry.
Socks, shirts, spinning, and churning.
I wish.
That was last night.
I have work today.
I pull out my last clean clothes.
And leave.
Old flame memories, and game show repeats,
viewed through tobacco, it's smoke fills the room,
loneliness, only, stays glued to defeat,
blue-bottles, can't help, but choke on the gloom.
Dreams like the remote, corroded to rust,
unopened, unpaid, bills sit by the door,
surrendered and lost, to despair and dust,
no-one levelled up, around here for sure.
Each day's an ashtray, of stub filled regret,
while moth eaten drapes, block out the world's light,
another neat gin, will help to forget,
added indifference, towards day and night.
The blocked drains and sink, dirty old dishes,
all that remains of, yesterday's wishes.
YESTERDAYS WISHES
They were yesterday’s wishes, all silly fantasies
Bubbly without serious thought, as it was then
Thinking that the world was here just to please
Reality finally dawned, but I am not sure when
Sometime in the midst of that sound and fury
That the sword really was mightier than the pen
There is no way left to appoint a balanced jury
It’s when religion eventually becomes political
Why don’t Christians have an allocated houri
So, please excuse me if I sound too analytical
But the world situation is now reaching critical
In the golden corn, the sunlit dawns
we lay in each other's arms
seen babbling brooks, the craggy nooks
In sweet Perth with all its charms.
Gone are the days of yesterdays
since my Maureen went away
the summer morns have now all gone
my Maureen could no longer stay.
We watched the sun fast sinking down
on many a glorious day
we even watched it going down
in the beautiful Dalgety Bay.
Now I find I'm all alone
gazing out to sea
I think of all the love we had
and how much you meant to me.
Gone are the days of yesterdays
since my Maureen went away
I long to kiss your sweet Irish lips
but my Maureen you could not stay.
A gentle sea breeze through my hair
creates the the sound of a sigh
It seems to feel the way I do
brings a teardrop to my eye.
I miss you more as the nights draw in
we kept each other warm
we always snuggled close together
on many a winter's morn.
Gone are the days of yesterdays
they will not come again
though the days of yesterday have gone
our love will still remain.
Gone are the days of yesterdays
the memories of our love maintained
Gone are the days of yesterdays
they will never come again...
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