Poetry: Once Upon A University Drive

Memories. 

The hottest ticket in town.

Still art, dancing and bleeding poetic life.

© Once Upon A University Drive

Leaning on a crutch of photos,

Vivid and pale ghosts from my past

Dance around me tinted with gaiety,

Nonchalance, and somberness,

Bringing shadowed and vivid memories

Once again ambrosial or unsavory.

Prone on spots in time, I linger;

Fifty values of gray hues covering

A wistful heart’s pale blue floor blanket

As lighter chromas of gray framed

Outside my window come singing stormy

Songs written by a factious wind.

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

© Sipping Your Sangria

Someone said, “Love is a really scary thing, and you never know what’s going to happen. It’s one of the most beautiful things in life, but it’s one of the most terrifying. It’s worth the fear because you have more knowledge, experience, you learn from people, and you have memories.”

© Sipping Your Sangria

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

The road invented itself as

We galloped across the border

Into Mexico and I found

You sneaking into my poetry.

There was a stretch of land enclosed by

Dry pine-oaks protecting dahlias;

Here, between us, was a flattened

Pack of gum from your rear pocket.

The best nick-names are overused

Because of a dearth of imagination.

“I like a bit of Shakespeare, Wolfie.”

“I like the flick of a mermaid’s tail, Lady.”

A beggar tried to get you to peso up

Before he stooped to screw his

Cigarette butt into the dusty road.

Our lips pressed thin resisting grins.

Days were when we felt everything

At once or we felt nothing at all.

What’s worse? Drowning under waves

or dying from the thirst of love?

(painting by Malcom Liepke)

Mimi and Mona's Poetry: LOST MEMORIES

I once read in a book that good memories are like jewels. We need to bring back the art of the love letter, on the most beautiful piece of stationary, with the finest calligraphy we can muster, and using an old-fashion fountain pen and ink. It’s difficult to tie a ribbon with love around a computerized note.

©LOST MEMORIES

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

Today some yellowed envelopes fell;

among them was your silent ghost

divulging words of younger days when

our love was grand, our wits were few.

Tears quivered on lips where they fell

and I remembered how Cupid proved

that love was blind —for many years

in our niggardly romance.

I thought I’d forgotten, but it all

rushed back again. Then I found

a vinyl and played what was “our song”

causing more tears at aught askew

and my loving memories of you.