I Remember You

This was a poem I wrote for a college course.  We had to write one poem per week, in a style that was pre-arranged for that week.  This was my epigram poem.  The idea was to take a line from a novel, song, poem or other artistic piece, and base an entire poem around the line.  I chose a great line from a favorite song off a favorite album of a favorite singer of mine.  The line contained so much potential backstory in just a few words, and I was able to easily build an entire situation -- complete with characters, history and emotions -- from just the one line.

 

I Remember You

“Beneath these branches, I once wrote

such childish words for you.”

- Elton John

I remember you

No really

You’re that one who once--

Well, you used to tell me you loved me, anyway--

And now you sit at the other end of the kitchen table

looking at your watch and you lie on the other side of

the bed

Awake

And you don’t look at me anymore.

I mean you look at me but you don’t . . .

Well, you don’t see me anymore

And you don’t hear me and you can’t listen because

you can’t hear me and I mumble and scream and throw things

and I . . .

Remember:

There was this woman once . . .

Okay there was this girl once who used to laugh and smile

and sing and tell me how her day was and ask me how mine

was and she would say why don’t we take a vacation or why

don’t we lie in bed all day long

Together?

And you’re the one I walk around now who gets in my way

who tells me I’m no good who can’t cook a hamburger to

save her life who never tells me I’m good-looking or

I turn her on or hey baby I’d love to rip those clothes

right off your body

Like you used to

(And you used to!)

You used to love my songs that I used to

write for you and you used to tell me I was the most

romantic man alive and I was all yours and you wouldn’t

give me up for anything and oh honey sing that song again

you know the one about how much you love me love me love me . . .

What do you mean that's the problem?

written by t. michael pender  1/88

©1988 T. Michael Pender.  All rights reserved.