A poem about jealousy and depression by David Tombale: Nobody

Jealousy takes many forms some of which turn more to depression than rage and it is this depression that Nobody addresses.

Nobody

There is no worry like the worry I feel

watching his arms settle around you,

and he holds you to him tightly as if

trying to mesh woman into man in

an ecstasy of being that makes a mockery

of my feelings as if you’re leaving.

Going once round the dance floor with

your eyes closed, happy with another man

and that spears me, a hundred yards out and it

impales me on the ruin of our love where

the black crows of nights of missing you

perch around the wall in droves, cawing

mournfully before a rising sun that I wish

never more to see.

This is the charity of despair that weighs me

down and wraps me round in old films like Casablanca

and Love Story and I need you now playing on

the radio but who cares? I care and I hope

nobody knows.

A poem about love and death by David Tombale: Separated

Death at times has been the only thing to separate some couples but the idea of love living on after death intrigues me and inspired me to write Separated in attempt to try to explore that concept.

Separated

Every evening passes in the careless whisper

of a departing train, my head laid against

the cold glazed glass and I find that my mornings

are dreaming of you, some faint remain of

love sleeps on inside me, slumbering like a

mindless kitten lost to the sounds of winter,

the crackling of falling ice and snow,

I have travelled too far without you,

even now I linger on the sights that flap like sails

behind me and I will not find you, yet dare I try?

Dare I seek you out amongst the crowds?

My wisdom has failed to let me know but some years from now

when I am one with wind and cloud perhaps we shall join

together, one with you and one with all and never

again be separated.