Shorthand conversations
By valiswaverider
- 318 reads
You ask me about the kids I went to school with
over thirty years ago
I see them sometimes in the street
And sometimes wave hello
and sometimes do nt
Dependant on my mood
Those people are almost strangers to me now
I know their names
I remember films we cued to see
On sun fading evenings way back when
I was young and the world was open for adventure
I remember that girl
I had a crush on in class
I wonder if she remembers me ?
She’s not a face I see in the street
Did she move away ?
Did she get married and have kids ?
Did she get hit by a car while she was at university or meet a French actor and live in a villa in province ?
Or an American banker and live a dull life in up state New York secretly pining for a return to England ?
Who knows
Her life’s as much a mystery to me
As the lives inscribed on Ancient tomb stones
I see in the local cemetery
Or the life of that boy I saw riding a camel only briefly only for a second
Thirty years ago in some name less village
On the bus
On the way to Cairo
Sometimes it’s hard to separate
What’s real and what lives in the imagination
My whole life is a mystery to me
Except sat in the local park with you
On a sunny day
My hair turned grey
Having a short hand conversation
About the usual turn of events
Which is never much effort
Old friend
Thinking of the ordinary pleasures of life
Cause all else is a mystery
And I suspect a great mystery
To all the great thinkers in the history
Life is bigger than us all
We know it’s rhythms and reasons
And it’s ever changing seasons
But not the meaning of it all
What do we know beyond that ?
Do nt ask me the way
I am no one’s guide
I am a stranger here myself
But I ll sit and have a short hand conversations
With you old friend
About not very much at all
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Comments
I can relate to this poem. I
I can relate to this poem. I often look at old photos of friends I once knew and wonder where they are now, whether they're still alive, or how they look now that we're so much older.
It's sad to think that we had so much in common when we were young, but time moves on and people change, so I suppose we just have to live with our great memories, But it's great to write our feelings down, especially in a poem.
Inspiring to read,
Jenny.
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I really enjoyed reading this
I really enjoyed reading this. There's that wistfulness as we think about people who once shared so much of our lives - and maybe wonder if they think about us? - and then the warmth of the friendship that has lasted years. The shorthand conversations about not very much are what get us through.
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I am a strangers here myself
I am a strangers here myself too.
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Enjoyed this very much, the
Enjoyed this very much, the feeling of how our lives are little drips in the vastness of an ocean, and how you bring in comfort with the second part, with friendship and "Thinking of the ordinary pleasures of life" is when we catch light
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I did like this poem because
I did like this poem because it does really make us realise how little we do know about everyone else's life. We just have snapshots of others' lives,or shorthand conversations with them!
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