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Jacqleen's challenge

After the wonderful Shoaib had posted a wonderful poem, the fair Jacqleen was so inspired, she wrote her own version of the story and then sent out a small challenge for others to try, so here it goes.. and Merry Christmas Jacqleen ;)

Our brief encounters

We stand in stillness, you at your station by the gateway,
watching each face as they pass through the glass doors of division,
wondering how long the scanner will take, the finger and eye to agree.

I, join the soft shoe shuffle of disgruntled chain gang,
one eye on the line a head, another one on luggage scrum,
heart pounding that gifts and treats are still OK,
another mutter and we forward by one.

The hours since that email that said I was at departure,
the last phone call of see you soon.
Public transport and prayers for time to run for me,
a smiling security guard and a open check in.

Now we are both lost in a world where time twists,
each second a lifetime, nerves and chewing lips,
half drunk Starbucks clutched in trembling fingers,
dry mouth from third time around air, we shuffle.

Then the dash for loop of hope, the first eye contact,
and with the first release of joy,
I see it, my baggage crawling to me, chalk ticked
envious looks as it comes to my arms.

Now the walk of the plank, limbs discovering space once more,
lost in a time zone of suspense,
the last ten yards becomes an Olympiad marathon
of heart and stomach churning sweats.

Glass doors bowing like angels into a new world,
eyes and ears hungry for a face and voice so well known,
like a star in front of the red carpet,
new sounds, smells, light and shouts stun the mind.

Then like a new born chick of Arctic race,
a single note is heard through the symphony of chaos,
tears and emotion raw, the hand waving just for me,
waiting, waiting for those last few yards to cross the one way line.

Kisses mixed with tears of joy,
heart beats racing, crowd blind,
suitcases crash, people stumble, curses caught mid way
replaced by gentle smiles.

And now we sit in silence,
Time like a curse slowly slips past our hearts,
each second like the last gasps of air of a dying man,
two hands of time closing it’s death grip on our joy.

Hungry fingers and lips touch what soon will be a ghost in our life,
trying to appear whole, reassuring and strong,
bring back that fleeting time we had together outside the world of humanity,
like wreckage we cling like drowning sailors in a time stormed sea.

Coffee sits untouched, trying to avoid the dance of letters and numbers,
half eaten food pushed to one side, hoping this time it would be OK to stay,
that laws and rules would forget about us,
that silent angels would hear our hearts.

The clock ticks slow, each moment now a force of will to remember,
the curve of your face, the warmth of your lips,
the sound of your voice, the smell of your skin,
like a treasure house soon to be locked from my touch.

Then like a condemned man, we both hear the single drum call,
like breaking glass, it crashes into our world,
with each bang, we hold tighter,
with each bang, we hold back to make the other strong.

And now those glass doors become Hades gate,
Do not look back for me, for I will soon fade to nothing,
yet still we dare that curse, hoping we both survive,
a prayer to the gods that this will be our time to be together always.

Soon the machine cogs of inter worlds drag me through those doors,
the last kiss, the last I love you,
the last I miss you and look for the hidden gift
and that final last touch of the world of the heart.

Lost we become in a world separated by glass and metal,
you stand there, lost to others as they pass you by,
an empty car filled with memories and music soft,
I, lost in a world of forms and beeps.

The last walk across to the waiting plane,
the last phone call to the waiting answer machine
the realisation that we wake up apart,
A wish that we can make it work till next time.

Jacqleen's challenge

clickinhistory

Gateshead, United Kingdom

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 26

Artist's Description

A response to the work of Shoaib and the response from Jacqleen

Artwork Comments

  • jacqleen
  • clickinhistory
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  • Bluesrose
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desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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