Alone Forever
Posted: 29 April 2020
Word Count: 427
Summary: The dramatic shock feeling of losing a lover.
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Alone Forever
Longing there I am the other by your side, riding high, riding nearby you
Seen the Bayou of leaves dropping full
Suddenly at your side is a huge plant of tobacco leaves so full of the need
To be smoked, when cigarette or cigar replaces the place where your arm used to reach all the way around my shoulders
But I am with you is their whisper, crispy dark leaves
Grandeur is this folded sheets dreams of love lasting resides at the brilliant place at the back of one’s mind
A lover tossed back into the river to join the swirling path into the Thames
Meeting London’s routes
Rise hope they rise to, phone lines are switched
Laughter on your lips
These lips are yours alone, black, full, sucking, luxurious
Curious your eye searching for hope in cars
A glance of her, the lady on your pillows wet with sweat
An answer completely answered to be in this game
Laughter when the heart is wrenching
Your stories kept folded with clothes in a closet
Emotion setting in where the mind should meet
Instead of two fingers pressing for want
There is raised bread and a shot of whisky
No nagging, no bragging, no haggling
Just me alone wrapped in cotton sheets.
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Comments by other Members
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 michwo at 21:07 on 29 April 2020
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Aisha, my own experience of reading this is the same as I had reading your other piece posted on 23 April - Brown Child.
I'm really not the best person to comment on what I perceive as being better suited to be expressed in PROSE rather than POETRY. Have you thought of joining the Flash Fiction Group on this website curated by Bazz (Barry Charman)? I've fizzled out at the moment and am wondering if the challenges they set might be more up your street. Sorry I can't respond to your subject matter better.
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 Novy123 at 21:11 on 29 April 2020
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Hi Michelle,
Thank you for your comments. As you know I am new here and your experience is definitely welcomed. Im a member of two groups at the moment. I'll try the prose also.
Thank you
Aisha
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michwo at 23:19 on 29 April 2020
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The fact that you've chosen to call me 'Michelle' bothers me, Aisha.
If you click on my handle michwo you'll see my name as Michael Wooff.
Do I need to change sex for you?
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 V`yonne at 14:39 on 30 April 2020
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I can see it as a poem. In fact I would say that it would require a story line to be prose. I think it needs a bit of honing. I like the tone. I am not sure I am deriving your meaning though. I love the image
the Bayou of leaves dropping full
tapestry. Maybe you could add the word aroma to that?
I could identify with
Suddenly at your side is a huge plant of tobacco leaves so full of the need
To be smoked, when cigarette or cigar replaces the place where your arm used to reach all the way around my shoulders
But I am with you is their whisper, crispy dark leaves
because my husband smokes a pipe and I love that smell and the dark richness of the leaf. I would always feek he is near if I can be enveloped in that scent.
That long line needs to be broken up because it will not fit easily on any format, unless you are going for a prose poem but in this one you do have lines. Condider where you would do that for meaning:
Suddenly at your side
is a huge plant of tobacco leaves so full of the need
To be smoked, when cigarette or cigar replaces
the place where your arm used to reach all the way around my shoulders.
But I am with you is their whisper,
crispy dark leaves
I think this should be a new stanza:
Grandeur is this
folded sheets
dreams of love lasting
reside at the brilliant place at the back of one’s mind
A lover tossed back into the river to join the swirling path of the Thames
Meeting London’s routes
Rise hope they rise to, phone lines are switched
Laughter on your lips
These lips are yours alone, black, full, sucking, luxurious
and to me 'Rise hope they rise to, phone lines are switched' just doesn't make sense
ditto: An answer completely answered to be in this game
So I tooki the end to be something of a masturbatory fantasy about a fellow traveller? If I got that right you are not so far from a poem as you think.
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Novy123 at 15:05 on 30 April 2020
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Hiya Yvonne,
Thank you I love to get feedback from more experienced writers. I was planning on another writers course to review Stanzas and Prose. I did attend one with Tamara Yousellf which I found useful indeed. I agree it needs honing to be a real poem. The last phrase I was trying to tap into the subjects memories of being in the relationship and through that they were now wandering; lost to themselves. I'll rework it I think.
Yes it's funny how the way we stick on habits and items of the ones we love, so poignant right now. I miss the smell of my sisters perfume particuarly and the way she shrugs at things she already has the answer to. Also my elder brothers deep laugh just not the same on facetime.
Thank you again
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V`yonne at 18:29 on 30 April 2020
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Well when you post a revision don't delete this. Post the revision on the same post above this original. It helps us to make comparisons and see what has remained, what has shifted, what has changed. Just put it as Revision 1 then you can put a revision 2 etc. It is always interesting to see a poem develop.
V'yonne is my real name btw but I usually sign as
Oonah
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Novy123 at 18:31 on 30 April 2020
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My sincere apologies Michael, I had had a glass of wine and speed read through the log in names. My mistake sorry!
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 Bazz at 14:35 on 04 May 2020
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Hi Aisha, welcome to the site. 
There are some great lines to this, they really resonate. You capture little details and sensations, sights and smells that really invest you into the piece. Like this portion especially;
A glance of her, the lady on your pillows wet with sweat
An answer completely answered to be in this game
Laughter when the heart is wrenching
Your stories kept folded with clothes in a closet
Emotion setting in where the mind should meet
Instead of two fingers pressing for want
and
Suddenly at your side is a huge plant of tobacco leaves so full of the need
To be smoked, when cigarette or cigar replaces the place where your arm used to reach all the way around my shoulders
But I am with you is their whisper, crispy dark leaves
I do think the start could be broken up a little, with shorter sharper lines, maybe the whole piece could be broken into a few stanzas? It would flow easier, at the moment it feels a little breathless, it could do with a space to help the tension, to slow you through it...
I think it could almost work as a prose poem, but I don't know if that form would say it all any better.
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