Norwegian Wood

Second week

The bed is undone and cold.
The paned window still is closed.

Fourth week

The door left unlocked, again.
Old bad habits you see.
The key is still under
that silly pot,
as it was
two months ago.

Fifth week

Guess will have to
clean it up.
The mess on my bed.
I left his untouched
and waited for him to come back
so he could tell me
what a great job i have done,
in all, without him.

Sixth week

The posters,
The stick-ons,
The pictures,
that I hated
and still do, well
I left them there,
couldn’t take them down.
Because I know Storm would be mad,
when he’ll be back.

Seventh week

Met Miles,
“Storm has left the dorm.”
I was told.
Couldn’t question why,
didn’t wonder when.
Went back to
my dorm
and suddenly it hit me,
maybe I wouldn’t mind
him waking me up
six in the morning, again.
Maybe I would mind
a dorm,
less like home.

© 2019 _occultatum_

Norwegian Wood

Naoko smiled and left
the meadow
while he just stood there, with a smile.

“Where could have she disappeared?”,
he asked himself.

He was afraid,
afraid to fall.
He was told,
told to stick
along with her,
with Naoko.
Because then
“.. I won’t fall in, either.”
he remembered,
he remembers.

And there
he slipped silently
in love with her
as he ambled.

© 2019 _occultatum_

REBLOG #2 Still Walking With the Past – Written Wednesday 26th August 1999 (Aged 24)

The Boy Behind The Glasses.

Still Walking With the Past

still walking with the past
holding its hand
and surveying the wreckage
which ii hasten to add, is vast
it seems to be scattered over miles
and the other day,
as i looked through the wreckage
i found your smile
and then i found you
you still had those strong hands
that grip too tight
that stranglehold on my emotions
as it puts a hold on my life
thought i had dispensed of the past
if not in black plastic bags
at least to the back of the cupboard
to be reflected upon when i feel sad
times when i feel not so adored
but there it was, older and wiser
still looking at me with sad eyes
the almost unwelcome provider
that seems so closely linked with the inside

James Garratt – Wednesday 26th August 1999

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A Verse Tried #9

It’s been
quite many quieter nights, for
good many weeks now
and still here I am
scribbling your name
on yet another page
looking for you
in yet another lane.
It’s been
quite many
quieter times
for great many
days and weeks and years, now.
And because here I am
I know now, sometimes
you just can’t
unlove some people, somehow.

© 2019 _occultatum_