Tuesday 3 March 2015

POETRY JAM - LOCAL

“Home is where the heart is.” - Pliny theElder

Poetry Jam today has set the theme of “Local” as inspiration for all participants in its poetry challenge. The instructions are: “Give us a feel of what makes your town or city special - it could be a person, a local character, a place off the beaten path that few know about or a food that you can only find - maybe even a celebration that only happens locally.”

Oddly enough, this immediately brought to my mind a distant place, which once upon a time I considered as “local” when I lived there alone for a few months. It was Amsterdam, where I went on sabbatical, many years ago. Yes, it was quite special and yes, I met a host of interesting work colleagues and made a few friends, however, it was also a bit of a hard time for me as my beloved was far away from me, on the other side of the world. Pliny said, “Home is where the heart is”, and though I made a new home for myself in Holland, my real home was back in Australia, where my beloved was. So “local” was a questionable concept in my predicament then…

Amsterdam IV

In the yellow streets of Amsterdam
So early in the morning, that night still darkens the sky;
When the thin houses loom high over the canals
And the water flows so slowly that it mirrors
The yellow lights unblemishingly,
I walk the cold streets, going home at last
After a long night’s pretence at carousal.

I know that I will call you as soon as I get home
To share my night with you, to tell you yet again
How much I miss you, how much I wish you were here with me.

In the cobblestoned, jaundiced streets of Amsterdam
Early in the morning when night lingers on;
When the revellers go to their beds, staggering and tripping
And the air echoes now and then with a rowdy laugh, an off key song;
When the young men boisterously call out as they piss in the dark corners,
I walk home insulating myself from the drunken merrymakers
Walking quickly straight ahead, past the cheap whores in a line.

I know that I shall sleep alone again tonight,
After drinking of your soft voice across the thousands of miles,
I will dream of our frustrated embraces for one more night.

In the empty streets of old Amsterdam
Early in the morning when only I walk in the lonely alleys;
When even the air is asleep, and the wind dares not to blow,
When alleycats have found a snug, warm corner
Where they can dream of nimble mice and careless birds,
I walk the narrow streets, going home at last
After a long night’s torture without you by my side.

I know that I will count the hours once more tonight
To see if they are any less than last time I counted, discovering yet again
How slowly time passes until I can spend the night in your arms.

14 comments:

  1. I walk the narrow streets - This says so much, our minds, our hearts, our imaginations, all need to be explored and sometimes they are too narrow. Well captured and great pictures of life.

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  2. that gloomy mood of the speaker is well reflected in the visage of the town and....

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  3. just another alley cat on the way home...in among the night life of the town...
    it can feel such a lonely place at times....especially when you are missing that special someone...

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  4. Such a melancholy poem, Nicholas. It is also beautiful and you paint a wonderful picture of early morning/late night Amsterdam, which despite its attractions has no interest for you as your special someone is far away...

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  5. such a gentle and pretty ending

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  6. Amsterdam is in my list! Hope to visit its "cobblestoned streets" soon :)

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  7. You have captured so well the many denizens of the night, from revelers to stray cats. I can feel the missing of the loved one on that solitary walk. A very evocative write!

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  8. An original take on the prompt--just where is local when one's heart is elsewhere? I knew the old Amsterdam where we lived near there, but I never walked the streets early in the morning. There is indeed something very special about Amsterdam.

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  9. I like the contrasts in the stanzas, Nick....some describing what is going on in Amsterdam & others which talk about the missing. I think travels can often be this way...a traveler is torn between where they are and where someone they love is. I have been to Amsterdam, so I could picture well what you described...

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  10. I too like the form of your poem, Nick. I have found that discovering places you like while missing the one you love spoils some of the fun. I spent some time in Amsterdam fifteen years ago or so and loved it.

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  11. Lovely poetry ~~ I also enjoy Amsterdam!

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  12. Beautiful love poem with a very palpable atmosphere of missing your beloved far away.

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  13. Nicholas,

    I felt as though I was walking along the canal sides in Amsterdam, where I have walked a few times, but with my husband. I was also thinking of my daughter when she lived in Karlsruhe, Germany as a student teacher. Her experiences impacted on me, as she suffered some instances of being followed and and stalked. It tainted our memories of what was otherwise, quite a nice city. The same is true of Strasbourg, France. Same issue with an intruder to her apartment..In the end, being alone in these cities is not a pleasant situation, once you are not observing it as a tourist!

    Eileen

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  14. missing the one you love, is a tremendous burden on the soul, those cobblestones you trudge getting home to loneliness; captures the path you are on, away from your loved one; a very nice poem; i love the two phases of introspection, and description

    much love...

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