Post Diary Blues
This melancholy fug
burrows into my bones
After delving back again
into those memories recounted
with such forensic clarity
Comes a cold blue atmosphere
a fragrant longing
and precision-tooled regret
Those searingly stark lines
old faces, wild flames
lost friendships resurrected
I’m dropped back into the thick of things
Drifting through teenage streets
old freedoms, vintage fantasies
and all those confusions
I could now straighten out so easily
The many story threads left dangling
friendships brutally truncated
as people moved away to university
or were scattered as dandelion seeds
whisked across the globe
some blown beyond this life
I’d love to call them up
and chat for hours again
It’s a temporary sadness
thin blue tendrils grip my heart
As I mourn it all together
the loss of those faces
and that old way of living
The people we once were
they still exist in stasis
trapped inside my dusty diary
My head swims through all the memories
out of time, for a little while
Arriving home, I’m calmed again
warmed and thawed by the place I live
That loving smile that greets me
as the kitten mews for my attention
the past is passed and left behind
a stepping stone to the beauty of now…
[2023]
Bit niche this one, but if you’ve ever gone down the rabbit hole of re-reading old diaries you might find yourself momentarily disconnected from reality!
Tom
Wed 6th Dec 2023 10:48
Thank you Tim, Keith and Stephen. I'm glad it got you thinking about your own experiences. Every few (weirdly, seems to be around 7) years, I somehow stumble across my old diaries and decide to have a peek - and soon myself sucked in and reading them for days and am left feeling rather strange afterwards. Thought this feeling deserved a poem...
Thanks also to Greg, Frederick, Holden, Hugh and Manish for the likes 😃