Three Poems | Edward Lee

AGAIN OR NOT

Memories leak from me

like sweat shed through

sickness alone, when

once I could recall

every detail

of my life,

good or bad.

Is this getting older,

or self-preservation,

my present self

no longer able

to deal with

the collected pain

my dozen or so scars

are solid proof of?

Or is my brain preparing

to endure it all again,

as that itch behind my eyes

seems to hint, layers

of stress accumulating

across days becoming darker

with every passing week,

and doesn’t want any blueprint

for me to cling to,

deeming me ungrateful

for scarring the only thing

that is truly mine, especially

for that scarring

that has yet to begin

but will begin, will?

TO BE REMEMBERED

We try to write

our names

across time,

little realising

that time is forever moving,

forever reshaping, and

not every name

is written

deep enough

to hold steady

within all that change.

FIRST AND LAST

You have become

the last women

for me.

I knew this

when we met

under the clock,

that second first time,

twenty years after

that first first time,

love finding us once again,

your smile warming

the air between us

as you saw me approach

mere days after

our social media reunion,

the time that clock above you

was ticking by

meaningless,

before stopping entirely,

our lips meeting,

our first kiss given to us

a second glorious time.

Photo by Shalev Cohen on Unsplash

Bio: Edward Lee’s poetry, short stories, non-fiction and photography have been published in magazines in Ireland, England and America, including The Stinging Fly, Skylight 47, Acumen, The Blue Nib and Poetry Wales. His poetry collections are Playing Poohsticks On Ha’Penny Bridge, The Madness Of Qwerty and A Foetal Heart.

He also makes musical noise under the names Ayahuasca Collective, Orson Carroll, Lego Figures Fighting, and Pale Blond Boy.

Please follow and like us: