Do you regret it, Charlene
I really did not expect it
and should have been,
I do not know how we missed it
to find myself in such a sauce
You really screwed me up
It’s not just your fault I admit
I wanted to hang myself when I found out what you were
it’s nothing unexpected
in my family, there were many lunatics
It’s not unusual to meet them
and this way
crazy people attract me
and I, them..
I do not know … it’s hard for me to decide
whether to throw myself under a truck
or to follow the tradition of my family
a few days ago the rope was broken
and we need a new one
and again. Maybe a car … and I thought of that
to run over me, or just skulking around
like badgers in the night
and I’m waiting for someone to pick me up
nor will they go to jail, we will arrange it
agreement with them is feasible
I have not decided yet, and I have to
I need to get lost soon … this car is covered with crimson silk ..
and then I remembered I left them elsewhere
Far .. That car … you do not listen to me? Well yes
Typical for you. You ‘re such a bitch, an ogress
What a man would expect from you?
Or a woman
indecent, imaginative, you think I have passions in myself
it’s strange to you, you’re a bit jaded, you’re glad someone died, maybe I did?
so that .. you would not have to laugh in vain
the playfully drawn lines of the study portrayal
typically lyrically, well-formed, friendly
I’m so sure of it
you’re doing it and…
you do not follow me, well, how could you?
you’ve failed as our civil war
that doesn’t work, not for rabies.
but, fortunately, I have Memphis, I wanted you to know that
that’s why I came to tell you au revoir
I will fly into the pink sky of dawn
while you .. (you’re laughing again ..) at dark plans
among grapes on your face
all run-down and weathered and wrinkly
a sign that there is no doubt about it
I’m sure that’s just the way
at one point I let you go too far
so that’s not just your fault
the rope broke.
oh, sorry, the rope burst
so, leave it, it’s broken
you do not really feel like it.
and you thought you had it all planned.
You’re making a villain out of me in my story.
Charlene, do you ever feel remorse?
Can you hear?
Do you hear what I hear?
Are you hearing this… (unknown sound), too?
Charlene, are you still there, or … you’re looking at the crowd
making love to your tonic or gin
You’re looking for me at Memphis, but you can not find me there
I’m going to my printer now
and I did not give you a book
at least not with a dedication
the skywriters spelt your name wrong
bookstores are available for everyone
I never wanted you to know all about these things
although I knew you knew them
you play the victim, you blame and torture and blink
you’re just troublesome, you’re embarrassing me,
wondering why .. I’m pondering
why I feel regret, Charlene
why all this touches me
here, it’s working on me again
It works, I become sensitive
why are you looking at me like that,
It’s a serious crime here, so it’s ..
You always played the victim
when I look at you I have no desire to live
I’m ashamed of you
I’d kill myself now. Here..
Here, give me a rope..
I’m leaving town…
luckily, lucky to have Memphis
and he’s waiting for me
and the apartment and they are worth a lot of attention
with whom I have not yet done business
and they do not go around like beaten dogs
and for which I will not regret it
and you? Do you repent? you? no
Copyright ©Leila Samarrai Mehdi2018®
* No part of this poem may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way or form or by any means electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise without the written permission of the author.*
with wings blue as the day
give me back my childhood
the heart and a ghost of love
take me back to those days of insanity
whatever is at child’s hand reaching
innocence, fallen at last
pitiless love to salivate my drawn-out days
seven wonders and more… more
with time to reconcile
There was a time each day was replete with splashy colours.
we gathered together to fly afar, above.
in the waters of our golden streams.
There was a time when you sang a song
the beautiful kiss of our precious dreams.
There was a time I dreamed a dream
Of a pool of light where rising sun sleep;
where no woman weeps
no friend’s betrayed
so, we met again and again
Seasons passed with a malice wearing silence
like a wicked thief in his wolverine gallop
I played on my own accord for a year or two
but swift enough to return to the shores of my childhood,
against time-worn pompous carrion
But flew he did! No pure drop of ta – land!
I fell at my feet as I were dead
a little dancer I never knew – a flower called peace and innocence
the missing, old age dump enemy.
The ice of prime survived my pain
the impressionable fall into the pit of pleasure-seeker.
so charm is all, but doomed and burdened call to find
the happiness on earth where happiness thrives
By all means, still, I hoped always be found
and I howled to the undisturbed tides, torn
“Give me back my dragonfly!!”
Somewhere there you held my soul
to hold me close as I grow old
and I knew that I was dying for so long
and I knew I was going to regret…
… that you never let me touch you
My unfulfilled love.
image found here
Do not wait for the Sun without shadow
It does not differ a harlot
From a drowning woman upon a shore
May the kiss of poetics
Release your thigh to my lips
May the shriek silence everything
Except the gentleness of a fresh prepared rain
I do not regret
That the river sand will cover every stanza