Where are they now?
a poem by Pete Marshall
Her back was slumped against the wall
of needled art on fresh tattoo
A taste of beer would wet her lips
as smokes were passed amongst the crew
and velvet tunes would pump the streets
as cans were kicked in DM’d feet
and Lucy laughed and smoked the skunk
as minds would turn in disbelief
but stocking tops and ripped up seams
and high heeled chicks and thigh high dreams
were all a part of teenage scenes
where boys would pain and girls would scream
Heady daze and heady girls
whose makeup wore upon myself
and clubs would buzz off Soho streets
for midnight dates in backroom suites
Debbie stood and laughed aloud
she drew the vibes from passing crowds
who threw her looks of dread and fear
her leather worn and makeup smeared
Jon would watch in silent stream
he liked the times with me and Dean
but never touched the liquid stuff
that rushed our nose and made us laugh
or smoked the stuff that Lucy sank
or drew on lines we paid with thanks
or took the pills and coloured tabs
or threw his life on needled jabs.
**************
image care of creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/strangrthancandy/
31 comments:
I guess everyone just went on their own path. Writing from emotions always pans out well!
Poignant poem...I hope they are safe and better.
Cheers!
I enjoyed the story in your poem and the imagery. I love the header picture you have used.
Anita.
This conjures up such dark, vivid emotions, feel transported there!
Very well done with the poem... :)
It has a great rhythm...
Looking back on friendship, personal struggles, and teenage years reminds us of who we've become and were we've been. The clear details brought the scenes to life— prompted me to recall good friends with whom I lost touch. Excellent poem. Cheers, Pete
Rather sad poem, but a good reflection of your past. Glad you chose a healthier path. Perhaps many of them did too. We can hope.
Well done! love the rhythm and imagery!
thank you
painted that one so vivdly Pete I could almost smell it .. loved the depth and reflection .. a spectator .. commentating by who you are now ... measuring .. time .. crystal ball gazing back in reverse .. but whatever they did,their choices, whoever they are, you shared that time and touched/and maybe shaped each other/ just a little or maybe a lot .. back then ..
Wonderful write as ever Pete
~ Lib ~
Some make it, some never will. This really hits home for me;I'm of the generation before yours, Pete, and saw so many confuse what their body was there for with a rush, an escape, a flight, driven by demons or angels, who knows. Just know they're gone and I'm still here, because I also couldn't get that close to the edge. Excellent poem.
Great use of details that create a vivid visual reminder of the past (especially for those of us of a certain age).
Excellent poem, Pete.
It plays like a song..vivid, rhythmic and tearing. Great job! As usual.
I love the rhythm of this poem. I can imagine it being narrated at the end of a movie about a group of friends and their teenage trials. Very reflective write indeed.
Great poem. I felt transported to another time and place, and that really shows the quality of the work. Thanks for sharing this very personal view and all the memories with us.
Peace and Love to you,
Meagan
Wonderfully dark and visual...I felt as if I was standing there watching it all from a distance.
not an easy thing, to stand at the eye of the storm....
brilliant and vivid...
Always interesting to see where our reflections take us - very detailed, poignant examination. When I am older, I wonder how I'll look back on these times...great share, Pete!
Been there. Fine writing, sir!
Lucy in the sky with diamonds...
Been there too, somehow, seen it and felt it well enough so as not to get there again- know from others who could never see the light of day again...
You bought 1983 to life with a myraid of goths, touching on the hedonist. I think we've all been there, although I was 4 in 1983 (I'm grinning cheekily on this side of the monitor trying to guess how old you are!). My time was the late 90's and yes, I can very much relate.
Never stop writing Pete, your art is your words.
I truly hope that all of these characters are well.
Shan
thanks for sharing pete - this was so well described, i could almost smell the beer, the smoke and see the different people and glad you didn't get stuck there, hope the others made it as well...
Hi Pete, love this poem, so many memories of growing up in 80's Britain, Libby
Glad you are on the riding the blog train rather than hung up on the white lines.
Amazing to think back of those who didnt make it...
great reflective piece my friend
Moon applause
Wonderful rhyme! A rarity these days. As in the 'innocence' of the days your poem recounts. I had a peek of those days, really fun days. Thank you, Pete.
I like this retrospective piece very much. One's youth often seems amazing when looked back on from a distance of several decades - could that person have been me? You capture the longing and loss very well.
A vivid picture of a life that once was, painted with emotional flashes and sparks of the reality that at times surges through a recptive mind
this was vivid. I felt like I was in the place seeing it through your eyes. I really enjoyed this piece.
like this poem my friend
find out on facebook :) It's all the rage.
It makes you wonder. I didn't hang out when I was at a hang out age. I missed all that but heard about it.
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