These Foolish Things Remind Me of You
(sung by Ella Fitzgerald)
at a bar off Waverly Place
I sat by myself
imbibed gin & tonic thoughts
stared at solitary candles
& coupled daffodils inside glass jars
the piano by the corner unoccupied—
if keys could recollect
would they play it again, Sam?
me as Garbo you as Crosby
never Bergman or Bogart
cigarette butts kissed by lipstick—
reminiscence rose from ashtrays
the bartender knew better
paid attention to twentysomethings instead
my mind time-traveled—
an airline ticket to Capri
paradise lost on a sunny beach
gardenia essence hugged our pillows
that trip to Île-de-France
the midnight train to Paris
foolish things burned strawberry incense—
my heart flew too high & fell
loneliness lit another pipe dream & cigarette
your ghost reborn in smoke
© 2021 Patricia Carragon
Patricia Carragon has been widely published online and in print. Her recent publications include, Alien Buddha Press, Bear Creek Haiku, First Literary Review-East, Jerry Jazz Musician, Madness Muse Press, The New Verse News, North of Oxford, Paterson Literary Review, Poets Wear Prada, Oddball Magazine, Redheaded Stepchild, Right Hand Pointing, Sensation, Silver Birch Press, et al. Her debut novel, Angel Fire, is from Alien Buddha Press. Her latest book from Poets Wear Prada is Meowku, hosts Brownstone Poets and is the editor-in-chief of its annual anthology. She is an executive editor for Home Planet News Online. Patricia lives in Brooklyn, NY.
Thank you Marie for publishing my poem.
ReplyDeleteHauntingly reminiscent , like the song ' Diamonds and Rust '
ReplyDeleteHauntingly reminiscent , like the song ' Diamonds and Rust '
ReplyDeletethank you Anna Maria. How strange that I also wrote a poem based on "Diamonds and Rust."
DeleteDiamonds and Rust
ReplyDelete(written and sung by Joan Baez)
I’m not nostalgic,
but tonight,
too many ghosts walked in.
The moon was full,
dust slept on broken boxes.
Heard whispers in my head,
brought the boxes down.
Teenage expectations
unwrapped—
eyes on peacock feathers
dry as dust.
The Madonna and saints
never saw the storm coming.
No prayer could have prevented
what I had to face.
Teenage expectations
rewrapped,
returned—
diamond dreams
left to rust.
The Café Review, Fall 2018
Patricia Carragon April 2018
Lovely
Delete