First and Worst – Love Triptych (Dan)

my first attempts to write poetry that didn’t rhyme. From the late 80s. Surprising how little has changed stylistically (in particular, I was as fascinated by the physical act of time passing as I am now). I would point out that I was absolutely NOT abused as a child. For some reason, as a teenager, the subject fascinated me, like it did all middle-class arrogant little shits in my class. Like Daisy, it would appear from the second that as a teenager I wrote about prostitutes. Next time I’ll be brave enough to post my even earlier doggerel.

First Love

Love is between two people and no one else,

special places,

special things.

Love is having secrets

that I’d only tell my doll when he’s not there.

Love is not being alone at night.

Love is turning out the light.

Love is when my room smells of him,

Love’s his fingers on my skin.

Love is something I can choose to avoid when I grow up.

Love is…

your Max Factor cherry lipstick

your patent leather mini skirt

your bic disposable

a packet of three

waiting in the rain

late night talk shows

a porno in its brown paper bag

coffee and cigarettes

the smell of your perfume

your black lace knickers on the floor

all of the above and nothing more.

Goodnight

Watching the shadow creep across the floor,

lurching past the rug, inching up the wall.

The sun skulks away;

everything is drained and blue.

Tick tick. Tick tick.

Waiting. Sharp breaths beat in rhythm.

Tick tick huh. Tick tick huh.

Ears watching the corner of the door

waiting for the creek of light to crawl across the ceiling.

Waiting for daddy to say goodnight.

Tick huh tick huh. Tick huh tick huh.

Sitting in the cold wet sweat

watching, waiting,

thinking, hoping, knowing.

Tick tick. Tick tiock. Click click.

Shoes. The metal click of daddy’s work shoes.

Time to say goodnight.

(damn “now” me wants to cut those two last lines – the completely dissipate things)

~ by yearzerowriters on March 19, 2010.

12 Responses to “First and Worst – Love Triptych (Dan)”

  1. Oh, I can see now mine will be the worst of the first and worst.

    How old were you when you wrote this?

    In this line: “sgharp breaths beath in rhythm.” are the mistakes intentional or not?

  2. Ha ha! No the mistakes there are the typos of 38 year-old me. I think I was about 17/18. I intend to upload much more from my 9 yerar-old self but was struggling with typing time today which is the only reason you have an older offering.

  3. O my gawd, I seriously want to cuddle this poem, I adore it. This line made me Laugh Out Loud 4 times: ‘Love is something I can choose to avoid when I grow up.’ &, y’know, it IS REALLY CREEPY in the last half, spooky, menacing. & of course I’m gonna love the ‘Love is…’ lists, I’m still writing them now. I’ve alot of time for lists & repetition.
    Absolutely charming, fresh & DEEElightful.
    Pen

    • you know, as I was typing it out, i was thinking that middle poem sounded very you. I reckon our heads must’ve met years ago when we were too messed up to remember🙂
      Dan

  4. I was looking forward to the one about food. But this’ll HAVE to do, I guess.

    Penny’s right, it is kind of creepy in the last bit. But good. I mean, not an abonimable mess like the thing I’m going to be posting.

    I wrote about prostitutes as a teenager, too. Well, a young teenager. You’ll see.

    • Well, here’s a preview then. This is para one from exercise book 2. Age 9. It’s an “adventure” – at this point, having captured a mean as hell baddie our three plucky heroes are looking forward to enjoying their reward of a skiing trip (yeah, you don’t see THAT on Crimestoppers)

      “A week later we had to wake up very early for we were going to go to Austria at 7pm that day and we had to get packed. The things we packed were only what we knew we’d need and no fancies liek Andrew’s meccano. The only luxuries we had were a few notebooks, pens and lots and lots of books, and three pairs of skis that the lady who had given us the tickets gave us. We had a breakfast of weetabix, a boiled egg and lots of bread.”

      And there we have it – stationery, books, and food. And 30 years later…
      Dan

      • Yes, you have all the essentials there — except some music.

        • I should pointout that before we get to the bottom of that page we have”lamb stew with lots of lamb, potato, carrots and gravy. We overcame our excitement and managed to take our time over eating lunch” I then note that because we had to leave in the afternoon for the airport “we had an early supper”
          Dan

      • ha ha, that’s so great. It’s so precise. And “boiled eggs” . . .

  5. This came into my inbox a few days ago and I read it without reading the first part (the intro). I was really taken aback… then I read the intro and wondered how you could portray this so well. You have a fantastically genius imagination.

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