deepundergroundpoetry.com
Long Gone
Still some remnant lingering on the sheets
Hard to shake his scent
Whatever sweetness long faded
Replaced by something acrid and toxic
But rinsed clean with little effort
Time to forget
A far from simple process
But necessary in light of recent events
She retains a reminder
A souvenir, a lock of hair
To be curled between her fingers
Then taped to the bedroom wall
It may flicker now and then
And she may or may not notice
That power to mesmerize long gone.
Hard to shake his scent
Whatever sweetness long faded
Replaced by something acrid and toxic
But rinsed clean with little effort
Time to forget
A far from simple process
But necessary in light of recent events
She retains a reminder
A souvenir, a lock of hair
To be curled between her fingers
Then taped to the bedroom wall
It may flicker now and then
And she may or may not notice
That power to mesmerize long gone.
Published 1st May 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 10
reading list entries 2
comments 20
reads 905
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
1st May 2015 8:43pm
The scent of sentiment.. some memmories cary their magic long, enjoyed the read, Crow.
2nd May 2015 00:14am
Some too long, unfortunately. Letting go is a tricky process. All depends, of course. Thanks Le Fay.
1st May 2015 10:19pm
For some reason I feel a deep connection to this poem, Crow ;-). Well done-and wonderfully stated. As always.
2nd May 2015 00:15am
2nd May 2015 00:06am
2nd May 2015 00:16am
Anonymous
2nd May 2015 3:20am
Amazing Crow......how a few simple things make a past that has been gone come back to life......brilliant write!! Enjoyed xo :)
3rd May 2015 7:16pm
2nd May 2015 7:02am
3rd May 2015 7:17pm
The muse is a comfort, joy and inspiration. I just hope I can return the favor.
Anonymous
2nd May 2015 9:42am
"She retains a reminder A souvenir, a lock of hair
To be curled between her fingers"
this is a poignant & darkly beautiful piece, crowfly. one of my favourites by you
To be curled between her fingers"
this is a poignant & darkly beautiful piece, crowfly. one of my favourites by you
3rd May 2015 7:20pm
2nd May 2015 12:17pm
I relate with that. Sometimes its a poem written on a torn piece of paper between pages in the Bible or a heart drawn with a crayon in the diary. They all make you remember.:) good read Crowfly.
3rd May 2015 7:21pm
3rd May 2015 11:02am
And she may or may not notice
That power to mesmerize long gone.
We all try to hang onto that for as long as we can, huh? That line gave me chills. I see the slippery grip and the desperation in those trying to retain their youthful beauty and captivating charm, everyday. Hair is soooo important.
But necessary in light of recent events
She retains a reminder
A souvenir, a lock of hair
Who we were, who we are. Whatever keeps you solid. I keep re-reading this and keeps shaking me every time, man.
That power to mesmerize long gone.
We all try to hang onto that for as long as we can, huh? That line gave me chills. I see the slippery grip and the desperation in those trying to retain their youthful beauty and captivating charm, everyday. Hair is soooo important.
But necessary in light of recent events
She retains a reminder
A souvenir, a lock of hair
Who we were, who we are. Whatever keeps you solid. I keep re-reading this and keeps shaking me every time, man.
3rd May 2015 7:14pm
Thanks so much Loki. I'm glad it has a continued effect with the rereads, even if they're chills.
3rd May 2015 7:50pm
4th May 2015 5:49am
4th May 2015 4:40am
It can be harrowing when you really realize that the person is gone; but, I suppose that antiques never have an amazing history without the dents and cracks to prove it. Well written.
4th May 2015 5:51am
