Archive for the ‘Poetry Collective’ Category

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1977-12-18

Sunday, December 18th, 1977 

         Turning hard on these turning points,
           my life and yours
           are bound by so many threads.

         The morning light on your face
           the curve of your back
           my memories of your love.

         I hold you to chase away that hole
           in my stomach, but it just won't go
           because you're no longer mine.

         You can only hold me
           and whisper that your sorry for the hurt
           and I hold you closer for something that's gone.

         A flood of feelings at these turning points
           awash in the light of my new life
           I sit confused and searching
         Through these snapshot memories
           and Fellini futures....

                                 gallagher
                                 18 Dec 1977

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

Posted in 1977, Long Beach, Poetry Collective, Rose | No Comments »

1978-05-31

Wednesday, May 31st, 1978 
            Petulant child-boy-man
your lovers come and go
your hours pass like leaves
you haunt them as well as yourself
honestly sharing the bits and pieces
you stand proud and vain
in awe of your own excesses
of sensual gratification and your lack
of true motivations or ideals

            I feel the days slipping by
wine and passion blurs the scenes
the honesties and sharings are less real
we press each other amid the days
to prove again that we, they, are real
but evening draws on
and I tend to forget again
what its all about

            I love them all so differently
but does it matter ... does it?
its just another way to pass the time
more pleasant than most, perhaps,
but with no more meaning

            Love is just a motion
with out the soul's need
and loving just an act
without the passing of life's seed

            Petulant and so confused I play without my heart
in this game where shadows bleed.

                                 gallagher

                                 31 may 78

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

Posted in 1978, Long Beach, Poetry Collective | No Comments »

1978-10-26

Thursday, October 26th, 1978 
      She never touched me, though she came to play
         she's never loved me no matter what I've heard her say
      she's just like me in so many ways
         she's a rogue.
      Our eyes and touch press ... skin to skin
         we talk of 'real', rejoice within
      but wait like cats to pounce and win
         neither lies but we love to sin.
      A wastrel's dream this love so thin
         where bodies press and egos win
      the coward's risk stops at the skin
         and though we share ourselves we're not akin
      "Have a nice day...", "I love your hands...",
         "I care for you...", "My freedom demands...",
      "I live confused...", "I want to win."
         why do we press so hard to feel so thin?
      The dance unwinds, we learn our ways
         the passion flares ... smoke, winds blow away
      another meeting, warm clay to clay
         it feels so wrong, hasn't love more to say?
                              gallagher
                              10-26-78 - about kathy a.
                              long beach

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

Posted in 1978, Kathy, Long Beach, Poetry Collective | No Comments »

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