Club of No Regrets

By andrewoldham

Wed, 15 Sep 2004

1323 reads

The club of no regrets was not a place for individualism.
It was too dangerous to be an individual, this was the case
and
so
it
would
remain

The rain poured upwards today, shooting up my legs leaving my crotch
wet,
making me look like some sort of porn pervert as I looked out of the
windows
and remembered.
The rain conformed and went the usual way.

I knew it was going to be a great day, the rain came up and Steve
McQueen had
just made it in to Switzerland on that old Harley Davidson. Five point
six million
people had just witnessed thanks to the Electric Jesus
television.

That and also Elvis had been seen in a local shopping mall.

The day I left was not a great day.
she never did understand why.
The days I missed her.
which were often the great days.
The days she wasn't there,
were days of relief but yet how the pain grew.
How I diminished.
She was my life and now all I have is this and
the grinning eyes of Steve McQueen on my television screen.

I remember my father's eyes looked at me, vacant and lost by life and
work, my eyes
looked vacantly into his, for my sight was detached from the rest of
me. I looked for
my fathers aged skin and discovered that I no longer existed.

This is a memory now.

Here is where the counting should begin.

Rubbish carefully cross-referenced, indexed,
catalogued and stored
in wastepaper baskets.
Lovers cross, arguing about HIV
on street corners
He says:
"but yer'll be saive luv we dan't nehd to use 'hem"
She says:
"nah the risk is too much I'm not having any of it"
and neither will he mate not without a mate
condoms
from now on
God wakes me up at 10:00 A.M.
saying
"Amen, praise me, praise me"
I prise him from my door
The seconding coming is called
Keith
and Keith is a bore.
Life is carefully cross-referenced
on a crucifix
Fixs are easily obtainable
so now lovers can argue
about the safety of sex
Which is catalogued, shrink wrapped and stored
(on the top shelf of newsagents and private houses)
Stored
Stored
on video tapes
in the sounds of moaning
in the sound of crying
on audio tapes
on television
in Electric Jesus
and his disciples
Stored
Stored and kept in condoms and wrapped by mates
and casually, cruelly
left in the wastepaper basket
of life
Left in storage.

One, two, three, four.............and the music should begin.
Steve McQueen made it, he made it on that bike and through those
doors.

My entire life,
music,
punctuated by notes,
crescendos and ostinatos.
Again and again
Repeat and stop
Repeat and stop
Repeat and leave in storage
but yet I stank of urine and this is how the overture to my predicament
began.
Urine and regret.
One, two, three, four, open the door to the club and walk right
in.

(to be continued, tune in next week)

To watch the grinning eyes of Steve McQueen on your Electric Jesus
television machine.

Repeat after yourself
"Switch off the TV!"

Repeat after yourself

So lovers can argue about star crossed reasons
as the seasons roll relentlessly around.
She says:
"I dan't want ter 'ear it Tel"
his name is Roy.
He says:
"How my heart hurts"
It's probably indigestion

A Doctor
of no pre-description
prescribes careful logic as a cure
And the patient is clumsily cross-referenced
placed in a filing cabinet between
AIDS and unrequited love.
Even though he has angina.

The rain poured upwards today and salt drained out of my all seeing
eyes.

Here is where it counts
Home is where the heart is
And my heart is wandering
(the streets of Liverpool looking for work)

My entire life,
Love,
was punctuated by pain,
heartache and loss.
Again and again.
Repeat and continue.
Do not pass go
Do not collect your life
Never land on Mayfair
Never get to be the top hat
Never get a roll of the dice.
Do not collect $200

My predicament began with regret.

Yet this is a memory now.

as the TV programmes of yesteryear

The
Truth
is
that
Truth
cannot be found in the grinning eyes on television screens

the truth was:

The day she left was filled with pain,
I never understood why (?)
The days I missed her,
which were often filled with pain,
The days she returned
were days of relief but yet how the pain grew

How I diminished.

She
was
my
life
my
morning
noon
and
night
my
breakfast
lunch
and dinner
my fags stubbed out in fried eggs
my heart under a grill
her mouth and body
wide
open to take the abuse
and we call this home?
if home is where their heart is
then their heart is contained with mine in a small box
which she carries in her pocket
(my pocket carrier walks the streets of Liverpool)

1, 2, 3, 4
...............
and the music should begin

This is the reality scope now

open the door to the club and dance right in.

(to be cont'd, next week, same time, same place, same old
everything)

The Club of No Regrets was not a place
for
INDIVIDUALISM
and
so
it
would
remain
so

I was not an individual
She was not an individual
but we were individually alone

How
I
Diminished

How
She
Grew

The music begins
1 2 3 4
Pulsating rhythm
The beat repeats
Stop and continue :/

The minute
60 seconds
she walked through that door
Wood and metal
She stepped off the kerb
Concrete
and in to the electric light
SUN, the stars and the MOON
of the car beams

Man it was mean and so was she how she spread herself over that
bonnet
how those breaks screeched and how those doors swung too blocking
out
the light and try as i might to open the doors all i could do to brake
on
through was covered by regret.

She says:
"What difference does it make
when
I
know
how you feel?
What changes?"
HE replies:
"No more, No More, unlock the door, throw away the key, but No
More"

his heart cannot digest the carefully prescribed logic

This is the reality scope now

The Doctors drugs work

kick in
kick off

here the time be announced (of how it began and ended in minutes)

The time
seconds, hours, minutes, years and cafe moments.
minutes that seem like hours
hours that seem like minutes
days that seems like years
and years that flit like cafe moments
of regret
of what you said
of how you put your heart right in it.
She walked through that door
it was made of glass and metal
filled me with pain
the pain you get from glass, metal and crucifixion
I always knew why
?
The hours
60 minutes and more
I went without her
were always filled with
Jealousy
Paranoia
and
Pain
The play board moments we spent together
the dice not rolling
I can count them all on one hand
were moments of false belief
God, Jesus and Christianity, the state.
The regret we gave to each other
was like a seedy night club
boarded up
were moments of real belief
Electric Jesus