REMPALA MEWS
Originally written and posted ~ 08/29.04.2012 – Re-posted – 04.01.2020 as part of an Edenbray Retrospective
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REMPALA MEWS
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he waited for her on the corner
on the corner of a black cloud
where he caught sight of her
talking with friends
walking with friends
from the factory in a grey blue tunic
they wear to protect their clothes
his love precluded, his temerity excluded
he walked on alone … and lonely
to where the maidens gather
the maidens gentle who chitter chatter
in his head and in his mind
and thoughts expressed, so full, so kind
and the love that makes you blind
♡
A cold wind blew that night
in Rempala Mews when he saw the girl
the girl with the straight black hair
a heart of gold … a heart of treasure
who stole his own without a care
and when he told her the time of day
she laughed and made him smile
as though he cried,
as though his soul near died
with the plaster on the wall crumbling
and he just one more day troubled
without the girl he loved
his stomach doubled
for that girl for whom he cared
that midnight tale, this august hail
it whips and whistles across a warmer wind
and sleights the meaning
of our honest feelings
the night his soul he bared
and stepped from fear, the cage
to confront the ghosts of deceit
and treachery and betrayal and rage
there where on the corner
on the corner of the street
a morbid dog with skulking ways
and knotted fur in the street light shining
where streaks the rain
describing only a cowed lovers pain
free now to run away a drain pipe drain
I’d wait for thee upon this palest corner
I’d be thee a friend till hell has frozen over
and all I have for thee is promise golden
with not a single treachery or lies
no sad surprise
my sweet lady factory worker
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writtenbyedenbray8.04.2012/29.04.2012
Re-posted05.01.2020
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jessica phiri says:
April 30, 2012
#Authors note ~ I wrote this as an attempt to get inside ‘feeling’. A lot of my work around this time centred on unrequited, jilted, unfulfilled love. A love that cannot be, may still be alive?
Here is a story written in my own fairly unique and developed ‘jazz’ -style that I had attempted and experimented with before – By using a different kind of prose spacing and very little punctuation it allows a staccato, raw, stripped-down kind of analysis in words, an attempt to un-hinge the reader and make themselves seem more like an innocent bystander and not a voyeur.
There is a vague feeling engendered in the piece to indicate maybe there is a dog involved or maybe just a star-crossed lover, both, or maybe they are one and the same who wait patiently at the corner of Rempala Mews just hoping to catch a sight of the object of their infatuation and love as she returns home weary and dirty from her factory occupation. Not sure she would welcome his advances right now but under the right conditions you just never know ?? ~ … … … edenbray today
edenbray ☢︎ - a BEAT POET 
O my God this is beautiful.