Just Old Friends

We may be lonely and we may be afraid,
But our voices and vibrations connect across this table.
And some deeper part of our humanity
Is heard subtly in the things we are not saying.

“I do not want to be alone.”
“I know, and nor do I.”
“I will not open to you that way.”
“I know, and I cannot either.”

“But I want to be with you, with someone.”
“Yes, and I treasure this time with you.”
“Will you stay and hear my story.”
“Of course, and I hope you will hear mine.”

Life has cut our hearts open so many times.
The scars are visible, and we can speak of them.
But our true desires and expectations hover unspoken
In the almost too close space between us.

This feeling of wanting and not wanting
Is a familiar dance you know. Words like love
And longing and passion will not be said here.
Not between two fearful people hiding together.

The unsaid anticipations of lovers who did not show up
Are in these moments of seeing your face, hearing your breath.
They tell me those deepest feelings have not left our hearts.
Not from our lives. Not here this night. Not yet.

Steevo

Not from our lives. Not here this night. Not yet.

...and not ever, I should hope.

A starkly honest piece of introspection here. Good work Steevo.

Joe

Yes, Steve, your work is refreshingly honest and touches on things that many of us fear speaking directly about. You also hit the mark about why we fear it. Thanks for sharing so openly.

Mary

Steve,

Quite a good piece...glad to hear you exploring such territory.

Peter

Thanks Joe, Mary, Peter.
I'm in new territory here, but I think the ways that men and women relate to one another is a great subject to explore. At first I thought it was a little romantically simplistic. I thought about it, then realized that romantically simplistic is an oxymoron.
Steve

I like this one Steve. It obviously comes from your heart. It shows. Nice.

With 'The unsaid anticipations of lovers who did not show up' you encapsulate in one phrase the experience of so many. You have a fine gift my friend.
Stephen

Steve, this is probably your finest effort here, I agree with many of the comments here and think that the final 3 stanzas are especially poignant.


Les

Thank you for the kind words, Stephen, Les, AngelsFear.
Words from the heart are best. I rarely reach them, but I notice that people can tell when it happens, whether in conversation or writing.

I believe we all experience that, and need it. Why else would we be here with one another?
Steve

I've just completed a degree in Creative Writing, graduating with a 2 (1) at the University of Kent at Canterbury, England.
And a very large part of the learning process was - what ever you want to call it - memoir, autobiography, writing about the self. The hardest part is telling the truth, unvarnished and plain, no matter how hard.
Like most people, stuff has happened in my life I don't really want to talk about. But I learned that you MUST.
OK, once it's out on the page you can edit it, anonymise it, play around with it. But that first outpouring - go for the genuine, the real.
You seem to be already there - without all that study! Man, I hate you j/k

misterF
Thanks for the praise but I think you have the wrong guy. Don't buy a word I say unless you want to. I'm as full of shit as the people who taught me and you. Probably I've been chipping at it longer than some, but I hold no special knowledge. The world drives us to compare ourselves to one another and that is a useless endeavor.

I believe this. Nobody is arriving anywhere. We all are struggling, and it is all about the struggle. This culture does not teach men to let their hearts be open. It is counter to everything we are told and taught. So any attempt to reach inside your soul I will praise and honor, without judgment. I am a mess most of the time and so grateful when I allow my myself to be vunerable just for a moment.

I think I like William Stafford's description of those rare moments as; "A breath without pain."

I'll post a related poem I probably put up before, but don't have time to search for it on emule.
Steve

ditto on each of these sentiments.

Peter

Yes, but.
Lots of people can write.
Lots of people feel pain.
Lots of people write about their pain.
Few do it convincingly.
You do.
Ha!!

Steevo,

You speak with a universal voice here; regardless of language this poem speaks to all of us.

Brucefur

Thank you Bruce. You provide a lot of food for us too.

misterF But you just spoke of your feelings convincingly. I felt it. I admire you for it. Don't sell yourself short.

steevo

am so pleased to see this here. maybe the title should be "old friends". the "just"....(?)

anyways, good to read all this.