Archive for the ‘Years’ Category

1985-10-27 Monday Oct 27.85

Sunday, October 27th, 1985
                                               Monday Oct 27.85
              You're wrong Dennis;  as tight as we are your
         problems with Rose concern me too.
              Your phone call last night disturbed me more than
         anything said or done before.  I understood and could
         feel how hurt you were but it made me feel so shut out;
         as if I didn't exist in your life at this point.
              It sure put things into perspective.  And it
         raised a lot of questions.
              I know it has already started me thinking about
         being involved with a man who is so incredibly in love
         with ex-wife.  Do I really want to spend another,
         three, six months whatever, at the mercy of another
         woman's emotions.  I'm already in limbo not knowing if
         you're going to be here next month, fuck this.  Cliche
         as it may sound, I really don't need it.
              I'm not and I have never asked you for anything
         unreasonable, I'm not asking you for a commitment or to
         predict the future; I'm not asking you to change your
         life style, just a little respect and consideration;
              I'm very much a part of this and you owe me an
         explanation.  I have become, thanks to you, a bit more
         self-centered and calculating, so tell me where do I
         stand in all this?
              I really don't like any of it.  You probably need
         to collect your thoughts and feelings for a while; I'll
         wait.  Give me a call when you're ready to talk.
                                      Lise

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1985-10-27

Sunday, October 27th, 1985

We talk into larger silences
survey the ruins with pessimism
and wait resigned
for more or less of the same.

Love distorted, a frozen taffy
in the cold water
of reality.

Strings of what was there, before
are now just memories
when we are alone with our pillows.

…addiction death.

gallagher
27 Oct 85

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1985-10-27

Sunday, October 27th, 1985

No humor, no compassion, no cherishing love.

Only the bitter ends of something
that perhaps perished long ago.

My Norwegian lady, so full of pessimism;
your world growing smaller day by day,
can you really have been
the flower of my youth and dreams?

People, like slow motion movies
of cause and effect,
come clearer as the years pass
and the patterns weather
through the wood.

I ache for what was
and see it alive and pure
in the eyes and feelings
of these two boys, born of us.

But where have ‘we’ gone?
You said faith and trust
had died long ago….
How I ache to see what’s left.

gallagher
27 Oct 85

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —