Something, nothing

The Barcelona English Speaking Poetry Group http://www.meetup.com/BARCELONA-ENGLISH-SPEAKING-POETRY-GROUP/ is a great collection of diverse people who, in a safe and welcoming environment write poetry.  It plays an essential part in the inspiration for some of my poetry and it provides a tolerant platform for sharing.
           Each week or fortnight there is a meeting and very often what I have scribbled out in a freewrite is something I can take further later.
          The last meeting of the group, hosted by Caroline who has kindly agreed to produce some original artwork for my next book, 'Flesh Can Be Bright' (to be published this autumn), took as its theme for the evening, 'Letting go'.
          The following poem is based on what I wrote in the freewrite on the topic.


http://www.meetup.com/BARCELONA-ENGLISH-SPEAKING-POETRY-GROUP/

It’s something, nothing

When in the university

I really did enjoy to see

my Mum and Dad and dog.

Because we all then went,

and as a treat, to the Swansea hotel

– the dog stayed in the car.

And we had table d’hôte, not à la carte,

but the hors d’oeuvres were

virtually a meal unto themselves!

And I alone was then allowed

to choose the wine.

My choice was always “22”

white wine and sweet, sweet,

very sweet.  Which was OK.

Until I met someone who

recognised a certain gawkiness

in me and said, “White wine and sweet?”

She said, “No more of that!”

And I soon learned to drink

(and like) the lighter fuel that

she liked.

            But that’s not it . . .

It’s not the wine I care about.

It’s more about the range of

“Me’s” I’ve lost as I have learned

to live within what others
have denied.

It was only when producing drafts of this poem that I remembered the fabulous (to me then) hors d'oeuvres that The Dragon Hotel in Swansea served, and also to me then, the waiters seemed to be personally generous in urging me to, 'try a bit of everything' - and what student would not when offered!

          It is interesting thinking back to the person I was then, so many years ago - so like me and yet so foreign at the same time.  Thought another way, it would be a negation of education if I had stayed exactly the same!

          The last part of the poem resonates in me and, while it doesn't make me sad, it does make me a little wistful, even though I accept that what others / have denied can be seen as part of a positive and living process.