A man in a sweet shop chooses
From a menu online.
The sweets are divine
The website says
So no-one loses.
The candy arrives
In pretty bows
And wrapping
Fragile as flowers.
He knows
How it goes:
The tapping of heels
Bring deals
Of sugar sweet
He can’t keep,
While the website
Offers fleeting delights
Of fresh flowers
He takes,
But his thirst
Remains unslaked
I sit here
Drinking beer
Alone at home
In this dying heatwave
Unable to forget
What I could not save.
As I drink
I think
Of girls who padded like cats
Around my bachelor’s flat
In their bare feet.
We drank wine
And, sometimes
I would find
A kind
Of comfort in a stranger’s arms.
A few left charms behind.
A hairband
I kept in a drawer,
Though I saw her no more.
I returned hair extensions.
There was no pretention
Of love.
Drinking my beer
I look back on half wasted years.
There where tears and laughter
But what comes after …
Perhaps I can find
A sort of tenderness
Tinged with regret.
I can not forget
And sometimes wonder
What they remember
Of me
I know a young lady named Marr
Who works in a very rough bar.
I like to drink there
With a tough guy called Blair,
And we’re all terrified of Marr!
The thunder came
In the early morning.
I heard the heavy rain
And saw the lightning
Flash across the summer sky.
Alone at home
I thought of the old gods
Who will remain
When man can no longer see
The lightning
Nor hear Thor
Laugh
For he knows
Civilisations rise and fall
And men are fragile
As glass
In shop windows
Lighted at night
To display
What we know
Must pass away.
On Thursday 18 June I was delighted to host a segment on the World Poetry Cafe, which is a show on Vancouver Co-op Radio. To listen to the World Poetry Cafe please go to https://www.mixcloud.com/VictorSchwartzman/world-poetry-cafe-june-18-with-kevin-morris/. My segment starts approximately 20 minutes into the show.
Mid June.
Sunshine.
The longest day of the year
Draws near.
Everything must decline.
My rhyme
Will find its end.
Another year
Will bring spring flowers.
I will think on hours
And the brevity
Of rhyme.
I must have liked you
As I paid for us at Kew.
We spent some hours
Among exotic flowers,
And strolled in glass houses
Where respectable spouses
Walked too.
I bought
A room in a cheap hotel
Off Victoria Street
Where assorted lovers meet
Then depart
And no hearts are left
Bereft.
We dropped off the key
At reception
Saying we would be back …
I wonder, did they have any perception
Of us two …
It was just an hour
Or so
In a cheap hotel
Long ago.
But I must have liked you
For I paid for you at Kew.
Whenever I return to my family home
The clock on the wall
Stands alone
Looking down on us all.
I have composed rhyme
To women and wine
And the clock on the wall
Watches us all.
We laugh
And time slips away.
As the clock on the wall
Looks down on us all.
One day
Someone will be gone
And the clock on the wall
Will tick on
Just the same.
For Time is blind
And the clock knows not
Who has gone
And who remains.
Who has
When a young lady named Mable
Danced nude on the vicar’s table,
I said to Miss Hocking,
“That girl’s behaviour’s shocking!”
She said, “Yes! She’ll break that table!”
I walk in sunshine
And gentle rain.
I see
My shadow
Goes with me.
I feel beauty
In rainbows.
But what will remain
When I go?
Just dust.
The elements
And me,
Refracted back
In poetry
