haiku for feb 14

another lousy poem
about broken love--
poet on valentine's day.

no love for valentine's day--
the poet needs to write
the last one from his head.

their shades play rummy
by the open fire.
he sits in the dark, remembering.

every inch of the house
got imprinted by a scene with her
this keyboard even, her playing 'wolfenstein'.

her on the landing
in long coat and a basque--
shy grin counters sluttish pose.

her trying to get out
in a blazing fight, the front door
not opening because the bolt was on.

four times, four times
she ended it, and he went back--
he once, and it was over.

sitting now drinking spanish wine
surrounded by bags and boxes--
he's moving house next week.

another step away from her.
they'd said they'd live together one day
grow old in a country pile.

he sits and drinks.
he sits and drinks and writes--
thoughts of her spin round his cloudy head.

he's bugged she could forget him
when he's still in love
poor poet, such an ego!


tom said…
enjoyed these if enjoy is the proper word - but they have that bittersweet quality of lost love
Bruce Hodder said…
Thanks Tom. Once upon a time I had a problem getting real feeling into my writing; now I struggle to keep it out!

It's like Dylan says, "Let us not talk falsely now/ The hour's getting late." Seems like most of us spend most of our lives posturing, pretending, trying to create effects and impressions on others--when underneath everyone's feeling the same hurt, the same fear, the same tenderness, the same "great heart throb," as Ginsberg says. The hiding of which creates the bullshit masculine armouring and the terrible misunderstandings that lead, on a larger scale, to war. So by unlocking your own tenderness you liberate everybody else to be tender, and finally you stop wars!!!

Course, it's not that easy. And poetry with no defences may even be aesthetically questionable. Who knows?
Anonymous said…
These are tremendous, Bruce. Especially like the one about her trying to get out and the door being locked.
Bruce Hodder said…
Thanks, Glenn. Warren Dean liked the one about the door too.