Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Ah, the pretentiousness of youth

At some point during my early 20's, or maybe not even that old, I wrote a poem. Actually, I may have written more than one but they were not good enough to remember or even discuss. But all day long I've had the line and silence is my only sound in my head and I couldn't figure out where in the heck it came from.

And then I remembered. It was the last line of some poem I gave to some person. Honestly, I have no idea who I gave it to or why.

What on earth was I talking about?

A guy I dated went through a major poetry phase during our break-up. I did break up with him while I was in France and he was cheating on me waiting for me in Seattle so I guess he thought that was valid poem material. Throw the Frenchman into the mix (Husband) and he had material for months. He wrote them on postcards and sent them to me. And to friends. And to my mother.

Silence should have been his only sound.

9 comments:

Samantha said...

I don't know why, but this post struck me as being really funny - so thanks, I needed a laugh!!

beth said...

A fantastic poetic line - I love it and I know a lot of people who could benefit from that line! Is the is the same "guy" who never gave you back your photo albums?

Eric said...

Ah yes good times good times

Nicole said...

Samantha - Anytime I can help. Moving sucks.

Beth - Same guy.

Lorraine said...

We so don't miss that guy. What a jerk. Plus, he broke one of my favorite chairs.

beth said...

I would love to hear the broken chair story!

Lorraine said...

Actually, Beth, I wasn't present for the breakage...maybe Nicole remembers the details. I just remember that I loaned these 2 cool chrome and leather chairs to him (because we were having a baby and thought we didn't have room or something) and when it came time to reclaim them, one was totally trashed. Everytime I look at the one that's left I get a little pissed off.

Nicole said...

Lorraine and Beth - Actually, he probably cheated on me IN that chair. Because when I left for France it wasn't broken.

Lex Lata said...

Poetry is like nuclear power. It can be used for great good or great evil.