Monday, 9 February 2009

At the Forum

Last Friday I spent my afternoon running errands around the City, near the courthouses. It is an area of Buenos Aires which always reminds me of my childhood, since it was here my father had his most successful office. I had passed many an idle afternoon at that office, and lunching with him in a place at the corner fitly called "The Forum".

I decided it might be wise to visit some of my "ghosts of Christmas Past" and had a lovely ham and blue cheese roll at that restaurant. It tasted just like I remembered...
Earl Grey with milk and no sugar, is perfect today, being Monday and all ready for a trip to Lady´s yesterdays.


Sitting where my father sat
just twenty years before,
ordering the same,
trying to feel sane.

This is where it all began,
Here is where it all went by.
How we came to be
those we are now,
our broken souls...

Days before that fateful date
were filled with blissful smiles,
but as the bayonet flew ´cross the room
we found no reasons why.

The film of our lives together
was burned and stopped right then.
We tried to paste it back,
but all to no avail.

I have to say,
though years have passed,
the food here tastes the same,
these blue cheese, ham and palm rolls
are childhood in a tray!

How funny are we humans,
so often thinking back...
How many of you would think me mad
for sitting where he sat?

History has a funny way
to make us believe she repeats herself.
But any of you
who´s seen life through
will know it´s not the same.

Seasons change,
our lives divert,
the path we knew so well...
most likely fades away.

Only I have known,
I witnessed all,
the triumphs and the fall
of both my parents lives
and only now can share it all.

Feelings kept locked
in the cupboard
at the back of my mind;
Open up, open up!

The rolls and tonic water
they both taste the same,
the wooden chairs and tables
seem to have been changed,
but the picture hanging on the wall
tells the tale too well
Of many like my father,
who sat here raising Hell,
and thought this was his world.

Like a wounded Lion
in the cruel wilderness,
the same way he was discarded,
by those wielding the flag
of unloyalty and pain.

He who loses ALL
and lives to tell
has ALL and is ALL
in the Other World.

February 6th, 2009


  1. He who loses ALL
    and lives to tell
    has ALL and is ALL
    in the Other World~

    Pero cuánta verdad en tan sólo 4 versos :)
    Tenías razón, me gustó mucho este poema.

    Hoy hay Luna llena, creo que voy a aprovechar para empezar un pequeño ritual de agradecimiento a Isis :) Quizás también cargar unos cristales que me regalaron hace poco. Veremos, la noche está en pañales.

    Un beso, señorita!

  2. hello,
    thanks for visiting my blog. i enjoyed reading your poems.


Tell me, darling...

Add to Technorati Favorites