I Get Knocked Down But I Get Up Again

That rousing song of the same title by Chumbawamba reflects how I feel today: It’s time for me to begin my next volume of The Long And The Short Of A Part Of My Life; It will be out on iBooks in the coming months, which means I now feel ok to serialise Volume 4, on an occasional basis here, beginning with page one:


Yesterday was 1989, last month was September
I hope this day you are feeling fine, I hoped that this day you might remember
Yesterday was 1989, last month was September
The summer before we’d danced in line; I’d called in to see you, in that December

I know absolutely, that there is no going back, yet I also know for certain
That there is no smoke without fire, there are no dreams without deep desires
You have become rooted in my mind, you are now part of the zeitgeist
Each day I succumb to your kind, you are my night-time’s darkest heist

Yet I know so little of you at this time; I haven’t been close, or heard from you
For too long to remember, but yesterday was 1989 and last month was September
Yesterday was 1989, last month it was September; I hope you can see, that I am
Feeling fine, though that my thoughts for you, are still somewhat tender

Our essence forms the beginning of that year of shadow boxing
Yes that’s right, we were shadow boxing, yet time moved on, and you moved closer
We became better friends, you disclosed intimate details


About christopheratcoastmoor

Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by.
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