Philosophy and Cappuccino

Gold cherry
Poem of the week

By agnosticnun

Sun, 24 Nov 2019
  • 3727 reads
12 comments
 

I used to dream this - turning in a bookstore

Or an airport, and seeing you.

But of course you found me on Facebook.

 

Still strange that we meet at last

Again, with half a lifetime past.

Why are you wearing a tie?

I thought you would still be in jeans.

 

Once on a summer’s night we walked

Half way across the city. 

At dawn we sat on the floor of my room

And poured over a book on cosmology

 

Our first argument was over the persistence of the soul

You got nasty. I pouted. We drank cappuccino.

 

Once I threw a snowball and hit you in the face. 

Your laugh sparked and you told me we would marry.

Snowflakes hung from your lashes like lace.

Incandescent, we could have warmed the world.

 

Our last fight was over far-off tyrants.

Or was it the time I told you

I didn’t really like art films?

You never respected my need for silence.

 

But I liked how you took it all seriously,

Your hair, and the makeshift second bed

In your dorm. We had philosophy,

Not just chemistry. We wanted our lives to sing.

 

But now my hands are always cold.

How did we who were once so young

Grow old?

 

Image (c) Kathleen Conklin [CC BY 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)]

Certificate U
Poem
Family Histories
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

Comments

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

I love seeing all the directions in which the Inspiration Point takes people. I particularly like those last few lines - thank you agnostic

 

Submitted by drew_gummerson on

I love this, contrast between idealistic youthfulness and maturity. 

 

Submitted by agnosticnun on

Yes. And yet still the same on some level... no cosmology lately, but at least I sometimes write. I think the me-that-was would be a pleased by that.

Kristi

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

A superbly penned poem, Kristi, underlining the contrast between the past and the present by recalling old and recent events. 

"But now my hands are always cold.
How did we who were once so young
Grow old?"

These closing lines epitomize wonderment and sadness at the passing of time

 

Submitted by agnosticnun on

Many thanks, Luigi. It really is bewildering how it happens!

Kristi

Submitted by David Kirtley on

Great poem! Very real life, well expressed.

Submitted by sean mcnulty on

Terrific. And moving. Last lines consolidate it all

 

Submitted by Stephen Thom on

'we wanted our lives to sing' yes

Brilliant, moving poem. I liked the balance and restraint in this, more florid lines like 'snowflakes hung from your lashes' work well amongst lines like 'I thought you would still be in jeans '

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

This is our Poem of the Week - congratulations!

It's also our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day.

Please share/retweet if you enjoyed it as much as I did

 

Submitted by agnosticnun on

Many thanks, I'm honoured!

Kristi

Submitted by celticman on

this says so much, it speaks of wisdom and hearts, you could call it poetry of truth. 

 

Submitted by Richard L. Prov... on

A very good story-poem. Congratulations. A simple poem with thoughts full of power.

Richard L. Provencher