Let Me Go

We poor scribblers find inspiration in the most unlikely places. An idea then picked up can lead down all sorts of paths previously unknown. This was the case recently when I was watching an episode of “Deep State” where the character played by Walton Goggins recites part of a poem as an epitaph for one of his companions who was being buried. The words “miss me but let me go” struck a chord within me and I had to see if I could find the source of this poem, if there was one. Continue reading “Let Me Go”

Going out







She came
carrying more than she knew
Ignorance a shield lowered only
when the space and choice combined
in a womb that nurtured discovery

He arrived
to confront his yearning
for those meagre signs of approval
that mattered little in essence
but consumed more than he could afford

A monstrous dark shadow
looming in the pale light
of its own recognition
All those triggers
keys that unlocked an arsenal
of pains from a time when
a smaller version of the adult
learnt to survive

She went
initiating a mutual release
from that prison in which
through the years of youth
they had shared and cared

A release in the only way they knew
Raging anger, tears and longing
for an end to the constant frustration
of those past moments that cemented
the walls and locked the doors
A realisation that we can turn
only our own keys

He turned and rushed
the nectar of freedom a heady brew.
Another provided the comfort
and shared the laughter
that gushed into that empty space


**  Stace says: The closing bookend to Coming In, the ending for the beginning, being the parameters to a 12 year relationship & marriage, almost to the day, 1970-1982.  











Oh how they’ve spoilt it all
those poets past
their perceptive expressions
lying in wait as wolves
to savage those cries of the moment
and blunt the impact
the meaning blurred
the motive suspect

And those cries oh those cries
that strive for the medium
to convey the pain
the desperate wanting
the love

They drown
swamped suffocated
by those cliches
rising from the past
stagnant in the present

The communion lies stillborn
its depth indistinct
as we lay dreaming
of what we really would say
if it hadn’t been said before.


**  Stace says: Another from my old collection of poems from the seventies/eighties creeping into the light

Coming In








As my mind fights the sleep
and relief is hours away.
My thoughts are still with you
as surely my heart you will keep.

I strive to find the words or deeds
to give your troubled mind
the consolation that is its due
and disperse those doubting seeds.

I may not find those elusive words
that may reassure and placate you
I can only give you love and fidelity
and a vision that looks forward.

It is ours to work and build upon
as a life in which others
whom we shall surely encounter
may find the love we stumbled on.

But this joy can be ours
and at times does break through
all those fears and doubts
like rainbows through spring showers

That is loves rejuvenation
a precious thing which maintained
and constantly replenished
becomes an eternal revelation

Do not fret about the years already done
for their pitfalls you have met
and should. rightly, pale into insignificance
for they are battles you have clearly won

Do not fret about the coming years
with all their age-old trials
which must be met and faced
but cannot be beaten with presumptive tears

All these words may or may not be true
and that is for you alone to decide
there is only one truth
I love you


**  Stace says: This was written at the start of a 12 year relationship & marriage in 1970 which should be read in conjunction with Going Out.

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