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Array ( [sid] => 179949 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Some Day [time] => 2014-12-06 07:21:11 [hometext] => I wrote this for my sister. Some souls will never find peace. I hope she does. [bodytext] =>
Curtains no longer black,
form manifests from night's cloak
as your eyes find your way back
to another place; 'some day' before.
You had your patch of couch
in the dirty room of beer tabs and condoms-
some new, some used, some fresh from you,
and as dawn then as now gave form to
the patchy ceiling of flaked neglect,
you spoke into the quasi-light,
“Some day” before stumbling for the last warm beer.
That was thirty years ago-
dawn now fills out a bed, reveals even ceiling paint
and no cut feet on tabs,
but still you say “Some day.”
This willow wisp dances always just beyond
the peripheral life you think you could live
if this were that way,
if that were this way,
if the house (not a couch) weren't so small;
there is no having it all, this is it;
there is no 'some day'.
[comments] => 4 [counter] => 163 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )

Some Day

Contributed by Invierno on Saturday, 6th December 2014 @ 07:21:11 AM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems

Curtains no longer black,
form manifests from night's cloak
as your eyes find your way back
to another place; 'some day' before.
You had your patch of couch
in the dirty room of beer tabs and condoms-
some new, some used, some fresh from you,
and as dawn then as now gave form to
the patchy ceiling of flaked neglect,
you spoke into the quasi-light,
“Some day” before stumbling for the last warm beer.
That was thirty years ago-
dawn now fills out a bed, reveals even ceiling paint
and no cut feet on tabs,
but still you say “Some day.”
This willow wisp dances always just beyond
the peripheral life you think you could live
if this were that way,
if that were this way,
if the house (not a couch) weren't so small;
there is no having it all, this is it;
there is no 'some day'.

Copyright Â© Invierno ... [ 2014-12-06 07:21:11]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Some Day (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Saturday, 6th December 2014 @ 10:34:30 AM AEST
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If I'd been so talented, I'd have written this for my sister . God bless you, Jen x

Re: Some Day (User Rating: 1 )
by deadreckoning1983 on Saturday, 6th December 2014 @ 07:20:24 PM AEST
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I know I have often said some day. but that day never comes. My some days are over. I have lost to much friend. thanks for the reminder to not waste what we have .

Re: Some Day (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Saturday, 6th December 2014 @ 07:59:54 PM AEST
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this was a difficult read... hope all will be right Some Day for your sister too!
I was the little dude on the couch growing up, it was a small house too... there was always a big depression in the sheet rock behind the couch because we all rocked, we rocked and we rocked...

there's got to be something good from every one of us, and I know there is.
difficult read to a poem that the reader sees was intensely difficult to write.

Best always my Amigo!
Peace!

Re: Some Day (User Rating: 1 )
by JamesStockdale on Friday, 24th May 2019 @ 02:55:37 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

A sad and wow moment...
It gave me chills.
God bless!

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