The wrong music

I was listening to the wrong music
while trying to forget him.

They were such melodious songs
(that I discovered by chance
just after he left me)
and the lyrics
- predictably, yes, about relationships -
were so conveniently adjustable
to our story
that I could not resist.

I cried and cried
every time I heard them
on my daily
melancholy dose of masochism
to and from work
until I thought:
why do I insist?

After all, I had realised
that the reason for clinging
onto the lost him and the lost us
was pure lust
for my own lost me:
he was just a ghost
who had brought back
at last
what I valued most
from the past.

Then I understood
where I could find the key
to free myself from this
depressing carousel:
To hear the music that I loved the most
in the days when we were young -
the days I had believed
he could revive.

What a revelation I discovered!
My fondest memories,
those I wish to cherish
do not involve his presence in my life.
This passion,
this love I thought I felt
thirty years ago,
was really just a con.

So, thanks to Alan Parson's,
I can finally unchain myself
and move on.

All you can eat

Having worked hard
goal-focused for years
steering that brilliant mind of yours
towards the top of the chain
it is no wonder
you feel special and proud
for the good use you gave
to your top-notch brain.


Now in tranquil prosperity
while cruising away
you thrive on
at a steady pace
and smilingly watch
her loving online face
as she blows you a virtual kiss
from back home.

(Even when you travel alone,
as you must,
you know all is fine,
abundance is bliss.)

However,
despite all you conquered -
the safety, stability and trust -
as you dine by yourself
at some neat, fancy place
enjoying the pleasures
of all you can eat
there is a bitter taste
in your satiated mouth:
You know, beyond doubt,
That unshared delight
is hollow,
not merely brief -

be it luxury,
sushi,
or Brazilian beef.