We were all the same age
In cloudy contentment of memory;
Hid behind skips and played in piles of sand,
Sat at window bays watching rain,
Played handheld computer games,
Saturday morning television,
Trainers with lights in the heel,
Eng-er-land!
Supermarket strip lighting,
Sugary cereal,
The national curriculum,
The death of authority,
And taking things for granted.
A whirlwind of nonsensical
Buzzing, whirring things
Without history;
Melancholy finds
Its counterpart in
Candlelight and strife;
It has no place in spoilt
90’s British suburban life.
And it saddens me,
And I fetishise other places and times;
I do not tell my truth,
But do any of us?
Comments
Verdana | July 30, 2012 - 13:30
A succinct trip down memory lane, tinged with personal commentary. Really connected with this.
magicdarer | July 30, 2012 - 14:34
This is how it is. Some nice phrases too.
ItsSteveDave | July 30, 2012 - 14:52
Thanks Verdana and magicdarer, it means a lot to me that you both connected with it! :) Steve.
Parson Thru | July 31, 2012 - 07:35
Wistful and questioning Steve. It connects slightly differently for me (the 90s meant other things for me) but I see that searching for meaning in myself and others. Nicely written.
ItsSteveDave | July 31, 2012 - 09:53
Thank you Parson Thru, I'm really happy that the search for meaning in the poem isn't just 90's-specific! Thank you for commenting.