Ants

[Strawberry_lovemuffin]

I woke from a dream
Of you
And there were the ants again

Swarming around the sweetness

Ants black and busy
Opening cities of memory behind my eyes.

How can I still taste a presence
Of ten years ago
Like crystals on my tounge?

I will wait for them to fade;
To return to the nest with this bitter
sweetness
And leave me clean again.

But the honey is
too sticky this time

And tonight the ants
are still there.

 

[Tiredhands]

nice

This is one of the most surprising pieces that I've read in a long time. I'm startled at how comfortable and real this seems. At the same time, I'm a bit uneasy.

I've been there

 

[(Wordy)]

I'd have to say that of the pieces you've posted, I like this one most of all.

There's a sensuality to it, along with the unease that Tiredhands mentioned, and this is an arresting combination. There's a real economy to it as well; it's sculpted so that every word has purchase.

These stanzas are amazing:

Ants black and busy
Opening cities of memory behind my eyes.

How can I still taste a presence
Of ten years ago
Like crystals on my tounge?

 

[Strawberry_lovemuffin]

Wow, thankyou guys. That's interesting (Wordy) because I was coming to think my best was behind me, I've been posting poems I wrote back at uni.

But this one was only weeks ago. I dreamt of an old flame, and when I woke there were real ants on my bedside table and it made me think of the similarities between the constant (and sometimes unwanted) stream of memories that suddenly, and without warning, can pester your mind and will not leave.

I really have to thank the Words forum for giving me back the confidence to write again, and this time I re-drafted this one several times, something I never used to do.