And we paid for the ticket

[bardiphouka]

Written for brigits_flame
genre:poetry
WC:136
Prompt: The Journey doesn't here.



When you closed the door
We did not know how far
your journey would be.

People always say
they saw the ticket in your hand;
the shining along the edge in moonlight
waiting to turn red with traveling
from here to wherever you went.

But the truth is that the night was dark
and the Guiness helped us focus
on only seeing ourselves
and the one last time
your smile tricked us
and hid the ticket's blade.

Yes, I wonder if you
are sometimes surprised
that I did not follow you
in my own journey.

But she keeps a part
of my heart hidden
and her love is soft and real
and she smiles and tricks me
into forgetting about tickets.

And teaches me of other journeys
as she opens the door
to moonlight and me.

Comments

Huh. An 'Edit' from Bluegerl? good greef.

[bluegerl.livejournal.com]

Oh Bardi, This isn't an edit really, how can I?

But I didn't read the ticket's edge, red with traveling, as that bad. Cos that kind of travelling does cut, cuts one off from what was, one's friends and safety...so it can be red and bloody. So sorry about the suicide.

No-one knows how far, when one closes the door, and the Guinness - well, we were all on that same road, but some drank more of pain than others perhaps? Afterward, people speak knowingly, but if they knew, perhaps they could have walked along with... Hindsight? humph.

But I love the memories, the guarding of the times when...

(I love this piece, it tells me to remember too.)

And the moonlight is a comforting carriage to travel in!!



Sorry. what a bloody awful edit! LOVE YOU!!! you gurt soppy romantic loving old Dodo.

and I am working hilariously cackling on PGW!

Re: Huh. An 'Edit' from Bluegerl? good greef.

[bardiphouka.livejournal.com]

Poems are like children. They start out meaning one thing and then take on lives of their own. Such is life in the world of stanzas.