Until yesterday I was unfamiliar with the work of Pablo Nerud. His poem, Tonight I can Write The Saddest Lines is beautiful and poignant. My only criticism (of the reading, not the poem) is the music which accompanies it, which, to my mind acts as a distraction to the reader.
For the reading please go to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f2zR7brOA3E
In this world where nothing really exists, I kiss your cold, dead lips. Meaningless dalliance in this world of the dead, no words spoken, there is nothing to be said. Emotions stifled, frozen in ice, held in death’s stoney gripe.
Jayne felt safe wrapped in Luke’s strong arms. He kissed her tenderly on the lips. His breath smelled of rotten eggs,
“You need new Scents Of The Forest Breath Freshener, clinically proven to banish bad breath in an instant”, Jayne said pulling back in disgust.
Luke looked pained, “Why do you always sound like an advertising hoarding?” he asked his voice sharp with irritation.
“My super dupa Vision Max contact lenses, 2 for the price of 1, send cool messages about a range of inovative and exciting products to my brain and I just can’t help sharing them with the man I love”. Jayne replied.
Luke sniffed the air approvingly, “I love that perfume” he said.
“Perfume for you, why not buy two. I like it too” Jayne said in a sing song voice.
“Jayne I am becoming increasingly concerned about where this relationship is going. My girlfriend sounds more and more like a bad advertising executive who produces slogans which, over time become ever more dire” Luke said a look of sadness clouding his ruggedly handsome features.
“Its never to late, lets go to Relate, the relationship experts for every occasion. They are doing a special introductory offer at the moment, 25 per cent off if we sign up by Monday” Jayne said pointing to an advert which had just popped up on her new top of the range smartphone.
“I’m sorry darling I am afraid that it is to late for Relate” Luke replied fighting back tears.
“But its never too late for Relate. Just kille the hate, only relate” Jayne responded reading the ad which her top of the range contact lenses (did I mention they where 2 for the price of one?) had just beamed onto her retina.
“When we moved in together you where a vivacious, intelligent woman, now you are a mouthpiece for the advertising industry. It’s over Jayne” Luke said his eyes brimming with water.
“Oh the pain. I will go insane. I need Lane, those newly advertised tablets to kill the pain” said Jayne.
I came across Carol Ann Duffy’s poem, Adultery while leafing through “The New Poetry”, edited by Michael Hulse, David Kennedy and David Morley (Bloodaxe Books), yesterday evening. It is a powerful poem which speaks of the guilt and excitement of adultery, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3cjLftgJuuM
A plethora of books, a degree, when I cease to be, who will remember me? Laughter with friends, me caught in the lense, who will remember me? These thoughts in my head, gone once dead, who will remember me?
Dark thoughts on a bright day. The sun warms my face, brightness mingles with darkness on this spring morning.
Birds sing gladdening my heart but, underneath the sorrow remains.
A child’s voice full of joy calling “mummy, mummy”. My mood lightens, there is love and innocence in this world of tears.
“Oh please darling, I like it” Cindy said allowing her hands to caress the soft leather of the handbag.
John watched mesmerised as his girlfriend’s hands stroked the shiny black leather. Softly as though stroking a cat Cindy’s delicate fingers moved back and forth.
“Its beautiful John. Your little bunnykins wants it” she purred, her eyes holding out the prospect of the evening to come.
John glanced at the price tag.
“We can’t afford it babe, £350 is a lot of money. Sorry sweetie”.
John glanced up at the dark sky as they exited the shop. Black clouds loomed threateningly overhead.
“It’s going to pour down. We’d better run to the car before the heavens open!”
“You don’t love me” Cindy said turning away from him.
“You know that isn’t true darling. I’d do anything for you” John replied taking Cindy’s arm.
Cindy shook herself free angrily.
“Mean man, there is always money for going down the pub with your mates. Nothings to much trouble when you’re meeting the boys but when ever I want something its always, “sorry sweetie, it’s too expensive”. You’re a selfish bastard, you don’t give a shit about anyone else”.
“That isn’t true!”
“Yes it is and you know it!” Cindy said turning away from John and walking in the opposite direction to that in which they had been heading.
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere to get away from my mean boyfriend!”
“Don’t be like that Cindy” John said striding after her.
“I’ve had enough John, its over”.
“Just because I wouldn’t buy you an overpriced bloody handbag. It was probably made in Thailand for peanuts and its being sold here for £350! Anyway who bought you those designer boots you’re wearing and the leather coat?”
“I know darling but, please buy your bunnykins that lovely bag. I like it. Cindy loves her Johnykins” she said taking John’s hand and smiling that bewitching smile which never failed to produce the desired result.
“Well I suppose I could use the credit card”,
“Oh you do love me darling” Cindy said standing on tiptoe to kiss her boyfriend full on the lips. John shivered at the prospect of the delights to come.
“We’d better hurry before the shop closes” he said.
—
“That’s disgusting, some girls have no pride”.
John had been drifting off to sleep following a particularly energetic bout of bedroom antics but at the sound of his girlfriend’s voice he turned to face her.
“What’s that my darling?”
Cindy gestured towards the television which stood on a stand in the corner of the bedroom.
“Look at her. I’d die of shame before I’d do that”.
“What Cindy?” John said rubbing his tired eyes.
“Sleep with men for money. Christ some girls have no pride. Turn it off darling, it’s horrible, I can’t watc
The end h it” Cindy said with a shiver.
A sun dappled path, leading back into the past. Losing myself amongst the green, half reality, part dream. At one with the trees, yearning to be free, to escape the hate, before it is too late.
I am not usually a lover of erotica (forgive the pun)! But, having read “12 Days The Beginning”, by Jade Reyner I can highly recommend it to you. The book is far more than a work of erotic fiction (although lovers of erotica will not be disappointed)! Reyner also deals movingly with the issue of domestic violence so anyone looking merely for erotica will be disappointed (although, as I said above there is plenty of steamy writing for those who enjoy the genre).
Elise Grayson is trapped in a deeply unhappy marriage. She coasts along supported by her best friend until she meets Vaughan Granger at an office party. There is an immediate attraction there and Elise is soon drawn into a world of passion and danger.
I will be buying the sequel.
For “12 Days The Beginning” please visit http://www.amazon.co.uk/Twelve-Days-Beginning-Jade-Reyner-ebook/dp/B00CLFHWS0
K Morris - Poet 