Tuesday, May 16, 2006

A Pale Shade of Azure

The sun is surely sinking down
but the moon is slowly rising
so this old world must still be spinning round
and I still love you.


Nostalgia is futile. A longing for things past. Long past. Never to be reclaimed. We get to keep the feelings. But that's about all. My arms reach out. They remain empty.

So close your eyes,
you can close your eyes, it's alright,
I don't know no love songs
and I can't sing the blues anymore
but I can sing this song
and you can sing this song
when I'm gone.


The dark, smoky interior of a pub. After Five. Or Apres Sanc as we used to call it. Amir's pub. That first time, we both went there early and you said, let's close our eyes and wish very hard that a cute guy walks in. And we did. And he did. Azy. The part owner. He was adorable. We asked him if there was any non-alcoholic beverage available. It being Lent and all. He raised his eyebrows: "Milk?" That sliver of contempt. People who don't drink shouldn't go to bars. Hah! It was only for Lent, after all. After that it was JD. Always neat. Because Joyce said only wimps or girls took it on the rocks. So we choked it down. Six in a row. Then you left and I danced alone.

It won't be long before another day
We gonna have a good time
and no one's gonna take that time away
you can stay as long as you like.


Jairus Anthony was the regular performer. He played old James Taylor numbers. A beautiful voice and he liked to keep things folksy. We would send up requests and he would play them first. Before the others ahead of the queue. He liked us. I hugged him once. He died a few years ago. Cancer. I wish...

So close your eyes
you can close your eyes, it's alright
I don't know no love songs
and I can't sing the blues anymore
but I can sing this song
and you can sing this song
when I'm gone.


And I miss you. And I miss us.

5 comments:

part-time buddha said...

Now that I've read some of Jeanette Winterson's work, I can see her influence on your writing. If there is such a thing as literary blogs, yours qualifies.

And I owe you thanks. Your comment about Ms. Winterson led me to pick up the one book of hers they had at the local coffee shop/used book store. In that particular book I found an idea I can use for an over-arching structure for a novel I've been trying to begin for weeks.

So thanks for the (indirect) help. If I'm ever in Malaysia (I hope I spelled that right) or you're ever in the States, you'll have to let me buy you that drink I now owe you.

If the book is published, I'll buy you dinner.

goldennib said...

Beautiful.

Jenn said...

PTB: I will hold you to it. Not being Justin, you spelt it right. How fabulous. And thank you. That was a wonderful thing to say.

Nessa: Thanks dear.

A thinker said...

Lovely.

Jenn said...

A thinker: Thanks.