She knew, only too well, all she meant to him
was ‘his bit on the side’, when he was home
on leave. All her ‘bits’ in just the right places,
as he’d said a hundred times; which was more
than one could say for him – a statistic, waiting
to happen. In the army he’d done his fair share;
a stint in Afghanistan, till they pensioned him off,
Saw one of his mates blown to pieces, and OK –
so he liked his drink, but he could take it
or leave it. Full of shit, that man.
She knew, only too well, she was a nobody –
just a singer, of sorts, and a girl who danced
a silver pole in a joint the wrong side
of town, shacked up with a loser...she
who loved nothing more than to listen,
to her old seventy-eights; Mario Lanza,
Mantovani. They don’t make music like that,
not anymore. She deserved something better,
but she had her dreams. And anyway
he wasn’t all bad...he had his moments,
and she was addicted to him, as he was
to his booze. Like water off a ducks back –
the things he’d do, the names he’d call her,
but the word ‘whore’ cut deep, and the blood
stained her skin, and the scar never healed.
But each time she decided she’d jack him in,
she’d come back – be engulfed by his tsunami,
his calm after the storm...his ocean; blue,
broody, or boiling.
Comments
scratch | March 31, 2012 - 20:34
The inevitability oozes and still we want to shriek words of escape. The two are victims and the reliance is mutual, hurt and darkness the square root of the equation.
skinner_jennifer | March 31, 2012 - 20:46
There's quite a story behind this poem Tina.
So hard to escape the throes of passion, when
attracted to the wrong person. Two people who
meet and are not good for each other, but can
not live without the other.
Sorry I'm rambling, but this is a story I have
seen happen in the past, so sad.
A good read though.
Jenny.
Silver Spun Sand | March 31, 2012 - 21:28
Thanks, scratch. Your words - poetry in themselves.
Tina;-)
Silver Spun Sand | March 31, 2012 - 21:29
You never ramble, Jenny. The heart of the matter is where you ended up. Most certainly on target.
Many thanks.
Tina
jolono | April 1, 2012 - 14:05
Tina, I thought it was terrific. Scratch put it perfectly, "Inevitablity".
Wonderful.
sid | April 1, 2012 - 14:26
Really enjoyed this. So clearly perceived- a situation which from the inside feels like a tangled ball of razor-wire. You untangle it with perfect clarity and precision. I tried to write a story about a girl trapped in a similar situation- it took me three instalments and thousands of words to attempt what you have written here so succinctly. Brilliant!
Parson Thru | April 1, 2012 - 17:15
Enjoyed reading this account of a well-trodden path. Nicely recounted as ever.
Silver Spun Sand | April 1, 2012 - 18:45
Thanks;-) Really glad you thought so, and appreciate your telling me.
Tina;-)
Silver Spun Sand | April 1, 2012 - 18:48
I like that sid, "a tangled ball of razor-wire" brilliant;-)
Many thanks for reading and for your kind words. Funny how I always envy your talent with writing and I bet that story of yours was great;-)
Tina
Silver Spun Sand | April 1, 2012 - 18:49
Hi there, PT;-) Thanks for dropping by and for taking the time and trouble to comment so positively. Pleased you enjoyed.
Tina
MistakenMagic | April 1, 2012 - 20:38
Reminded me very much of Eugene O' Neill's play 'The Iceman Cometh' - set in a bar with a collection of drunken losers clinging to hopes of tomorrow, but a very poignant play it is - as is this, Tina! Especially love:
"the things he’d do, the names he’d call her,
but the word ‘whore’ cut deep, and the blood
stained her skin, and the scar never healed."
Well done on the cherries! :-)
Magic xxx
InspiredWriter | April 2, 2012 - 23:01
I love this, its quite open and it hit my emotions with an impact
IW
Silver Spun Sand | April 2, 2012 - 23:34
IW - thanks;-)
Tina
Frances Macaula... | April 3, 2012 - 16:35
Love has many faces; you build your characters so well... congratulations on yet another cherry.
Frances Macaula... | April 3, 2012 - 16:36
Erased - posted twice... sorry.
Silver Spun Sand | April 3, 2012 - 18:09
Thanks Frances, and you're so right about love having many faces.
Tina
Richard L. Prov... | April 4, 2012 - 01:25
You take us through some rough moments, reality is the return to a comfort zone. Love is strange, love stings, love hurts. I met many of these ladies through my social services background. A well done account of sadness and survival. Richard LP
Silver Spun Sand | April 4, 2012 - 08:51
Thank you, so very much, Richard for your thoughts on this one. You must have met all sorts in the line of duty. A tough job, but I am sure it had its rewards.
Tina