LEAVING
Twice you tried to
prise my fingers
from the gate
and hush my
frantic screams,
while I hung on,
desperation
and hysteria
on my side.
But the third time
you won,
my small hands
slipping from
wrought iron bars
as you picked me up
and handed me over.
Don't leave me!
It's for the best,
you said , while
your tears ran
faster than mine,
rivers of remorse
flooding mascara
down your cheeks.
Strange arms,
strange face,
smelling of
carbolic soap.
Strange blouse
smelling of starch.
Strange voice
I never heard before.
She was not you.
One last wild kick!
But I was held tightly,
and you were gone.
(c)John Holt 26-Aug-99
WHO WAS I?
I married young.
Filled the role of
Lover/Mother/Wife
Raised a family.
Guide and Pilot
to everyone,
when I was needed.
And I was
always needed.
Wiping noses.
Checking homework.
Holding burdens.
Catching tears.
Minding everyone
else's fears.
I was the 24-hour
check-in girl.
Everyone left their
'baggage' with me
Each problem-parcel
said "Please Deal!"
Over time I lost
my own identity,
became absorbed,
assimilated into
Nurse/Baker/Builder/
Home-maker and
many other parts.
No! I did not
lose my identity!
It was taken from me,
stolen - bit by bit -
Removed by
"Will you...?"
"Can you....?"
"Would you..?"
I married young.
Filled the role of
Lover/Mother/Wife.
Who was I?
(c)John Holt 13-Aug-1999
EXORCISM
You said you wanted
much, much, more
(but never mentioned this before),
-impossible for me to do-
and so you walked; you
trashed the rules we made,
agreement previously set,
and carried on your life
as if we never met -
And my heart breaks
And my head aches
And I want you
out! Out of my soul!
Out of my thinking!
Out of the picture!
Out of my mind!
Ecstasy was our delight
love was not the anchor chain,
heated passion, for itself,
was to be our mutual gain.
But you soiled it, spoiled it,
changed our game plan,
threw away delight and lust,
stopped our meetings
broke the contract
swept what we had
into the dust!
Now I know I have to show
I can make my life again,
exorcise the ghost of you,
bury sorrow, bury pain.
Seven words I say each day,
helping me to start anew,
'Self Esteem Is My New Dream'
It helps me in forgetting you.
(c) John Holt 28-Apr-1999
IRRESISTIBLE FALSE-FORCE?
HE was exorcised - I know!
But
do I want to let him go?
I pass his house
I stop. I turn.
I look. I yearn.
HE will not go!
Conveniently
I shrug off
what he did,
the memory
of that pain,
and I find myself
wanting him
again
and
again
and
again.
I would be
walking back-
'reversing time',
'erasing history'-
Is it a crime
to want what I had?
Do I sound
-empty?
-hollow?
-sad?
Out out! you
bastard ghost!
My courage falters
and my Self-esteem
is all I have to
counter this
relentless dream.
(c) John Holt 26-Jun-1999
SIC TRANSIT
How ardently the thrusting prow
penetrates the waves just now.
How smoothly does its pointed side
move apart the ocean's pride.
How willingly the watery steed
encompasses the keel with speed,
while up aloft the sails fill out
like fulsome lips in silken pout.
How bitter-sweet the voyage feels
-for exile's not a wound that heals.
(c)John Holt 31-JAN-1999
DON`T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?
I can`t be certain
can`t be sure,
maybe I`ll survive
another slamming
door.
Too bad they never
knew me in my
glory days
instead of now,
smelling of beer
head down
in a cigarette
haze.
Fucked up down the years
crying tears of
self pity,
hand out, wandering
on the edge of the city.
Bastards!
Don`t they know
who I am?
I used to be
someone around here
before they`d even
learnt to shit
or wipe a tear!
I was the capo,
the man, the dude
the fucker with
an attitude.
In my time
I bought and sold
men`s lives,
I told them what
to do.
I screwed their wives.
They trusted me,
the schmucks,
and paid the fees
to watch the union
bring employers
to their knees.
And while the
honey dripped
these worker-drones
all shook my hand
and took me to their homes.
Look - I _don`t know
what went wrong -
- maybe they got tired
maybe someone wrote
another song.
For Christ sake,
how am I s`posed
to remember?
It might have been
January or December when
I was shafted by both sides.
All I know is I was _out
and no one gave a dam.
now give me that five bucks -
I was the capo! I was the man!
(c)John Holt 21-JUL-1998
YOU`RE SLEEPING NOW
You`re sleeping now,
tear stains
on your face,
ghostly fingers
stretching down
running into the
corners of
your mouth.
The only time
you don`t cry
is when you sleep.
Grief isn`t always
so silent.
Sometimes it gets
into dreams,
snaking and wheedling,
pretending it`s there
as some sort of
consolation.
Maybe it can`t
reach you there.
Could be that`s the
only place you
can safely hide
and rediscover
happiness.
It`s not easy, but
if you don`t take
hold of yourself
Grief will win.
I can`t understand
why you don`t know
just how many friends
still care about you.
Sure, they aren`t
exactly knocking down
your door at this time.
But you know what folks
are like.
Slow to react, each
holding their own
vision of pain.
Fact is there are more
caring about you
than you can number.
You`re sleeping now.
Wish I could vanish
all those sorrows
in your mind,
blast them,
kick them back
to hell where
they came from.
You must help me here.
Just do half the job;
-promise me this?
I`ll do the rest.
(c)John Holt 25-JUL-1998
HIDDEN WORDS
I sometimes wonder
why I never said
those all
important things
still in my head,
and if I had
the chance
with you again
those words
would flow,
and I would lose
this pain.
How could
I know
the havoc
it would wreak
within my soul,
....because
I failed to speak.
(c)John Holt 19-JUN-1998
PAST TENSE
Too many times
I meant to say
I love you
but the words
just died,
before they
ever saw
the light
of day.
Now you have
gone.
You live
with that
other guy
who sings
your praises
loudly
to the sky,
...but _I never
did that
and I keep
wondering why.
(c)John Holt 19-JUN-1998
SEMPER FIDELIS
Always faithful, ever true,
though time changes things.
Even you will agree.
Was it worth it - I wonder?
Loving you tore me asunder.
We should not have pledged
those things we held so dear.
Heart upon heart, soft lip to ear.
Well then, it`s done!
Let`s have an end to it.
I will not lay or sit moping,
searching, like a dog groping
for something it cannot see.
Ever Faithful is my epitaph
but Semper Fidelis buried me.
(c)John Holt 10-AUG-1998
THE FAILURE
Through twisting lanes of past events
my thoughts all ran to hide.
In avenues of things-that-were
my ego took a slide.
I nursed a cherished hope
but reared a false illusion,
shattered are my plans
all smothered by confusion.
I am an architect of no renown.
The dreams I built just yesterday
Have
crumbled
to
the
ground.
(c) John Holt 1998
