Tomangos

Caught in this old haunt
By the sea,
Where the beats change
And the patrons
Grow younger –
But we are still here,
Diminished,
Deflated,
But drunkenly defiant
(at least they are anyway).

The politics downed
One blue bottle a time
As that heartbreaker
Strikes again,
While hating this home;
Meanwhile
That callous callow fox
Brings tears to his
Beloved friend’s face,
Cosmetically beautiful;

Yet nobody knows
When either is ever natural.

The carpet is still worn
From repeated steps
Taken in solace
Amidst the inebriated;
Ghosts of the past
Present themselves
Presently
As faces contort
To resemble lovers
Lost to fear.

The strangers only serve
To enforce
The strangeness
Of this situation:
How still time has stood
While passing by
Even quicker than
A second slips
Away,
To nothing:

All seen before, with every
Crossing over the threshold.

Déjà vu
Freeze-framed
Beside the faceless,
Old hangers-on
Having slithered away
To neoteric niches
Filled with people
Nescient to their
Sycophantic ways –
Until the souls are sucked dry.

The sick cycle
Sees them spawn
Anew whenever
A few die off;
And though we’d
Weed them out
With fourberie,
Lurking roguishly
In the corners
Were more:

Fleeing invisibility
For a taste of obscurity,

Always more,
Slyer than before,
So much so
I cannot recognise
Rogue from ravager
Anymore;
Strobing lights
Strangle my sight
As I lose everyone
In the compression.

The stagnating screams
Rise and fall
As I walk and walk
This winding way,
Searching for something
Never really there –
Until, finally,
With thinned-out soles,
I see those I know
And those I don’t

With no longer a clue
As to who is who.

Moon Shadows

There was sincerity in serenity

As laughter filled the air

On the beach that night.

The world sat back

And simply lit our way

With a blazing night light,

Casting moon shadows

On the hilly sand around us.

And where we would

Normally have fumbled

In darkness to move,

We could see every face,

And each attached shadow.

The ease of our flow

Was the gain of our youth,

With our coming-of-age

A pass into the doldrums

Of the dancefloor.*

We always meant to go back

And commemorate our

Old haunt with one more session,

But the lure of cheap drinks

And strange people

In the conformity of clubs

Is too strong for the thirsty.

The beats operate

In the sea’s stead,

The rhythm bringing hope

(a drunken delusion)

Where waves brought peace

(without intrusion).

And there are no moon shadows

Where we go now,

Just lights in strobes

Splintering our lust;

While back on the beach

The moon casts its silhouettes

In fond silence,

Fleeting in form,

Yet with dashes of shadows

Come and gone –

And free.

Always free.

* Oddly a rare retreat sometimes –

Lost from madness

Within more madness,

Only the sought madness

Is unknown,

And better because of it.

The Walk of Shame

Rain, rain, rain,
Lashing down relentlessly,
As we play our game of 69s,
Yet it doesn't stop us,
Or slow our momentum,
As we smash goal-after-goal,
Into the back of the net.

A ball flies into the box,
For number 68,
I throw myself toward it,
A diving header,
Glorious in its execution,
Puts the ball in the back of the net.

Another ball's launched in,
I see it,
And see nothing but glory,
I throw myself at it once more,
Looking for the fabled 69,
I connect perfectly,
But I lack accuracy,
And it goes a mile wide...

NO!

I am now guarding the goal,
Hoping and hoping,
That it won't be me,
Who concedes the dreaded 69,
And pays the penalty,
By facing the long and infamous walk,
The walk of shame...

The ball comes in yet again,
And up jumps the fox,
Heading the ball goalward,
His aim was true,
My fate was sealed,
As even when I dived despairingly,
And got fingertips onto the ball,
I knew it was in...

I was so close,
But not close enough,
The ball had spun into the bottom corner,
And anguish and disappointment wash over me,
As I now face the forfeit to end all forfeits,
I face the walk of shame.

All around the pitch I must walk,
The loneliest walk anyone could ever face,
In the duration of their lives,
So with my head down, and while soaking wet,
I am left alone to reflect,
On how I ended up with this punishment,
Wondering how the hell I lost!

All of this of course,
While the others sit in the centre,
Laughing and jeering,
Yet also applauding,
Applauding because they feel I was wronged,
Believing I didn't deserve to walk the walk,
But that, I suppose, is the beauty of the game...

Even if it does undermine the walk of shame.

We're Having a Great Time!

A very odd night indeed,
It begins in familiar surroundings,
On the setting of the beach,
I greet people I haven't seen in many a moon,
We're having a great time!

I promised one lad I would be there,
He hails me when I see him,
He reckons he's had too much to drink,
He sings funny songs and does funny dances,
Clearly, he's having a great time!

Unfortunately, we are forced to move,
When the guards rear their ugly heads,
They pour my friend's drink out,
So he gives them a fake name...
Jim's having a great time!

So we head to the hills,
Located beyond a fence,
I feel quite content there,
But we move again for another adventure,
We're having a great time!

We then end up in the Woodlands,
To wind down our night of madness,
One lad slips and falls in the mud,
But he gets up and laughs it off,
Because he's having a great time!

Then comes the end of our great night,
It fills me with much sadness and despair
Since we have to leave our friends behind;
The tale of this night may seem insignificant to others,
But it will always have a special place in my heart...

Because I had a great time!