Life, Sadness

18th Avenue

September 23, 2012

Pictures, pictures, f****** pictures,
pictures of you at holidays,
with your family,
pictures of you at the shoreline,
with your friends,
pictures of vacations,
in your car,
pictures of your face;only for you and I

scattered like ashes
everywhere around this country
without me;

You showed me
all these pictures
of you
without me;

so I showed you
pictures, pictures, f****** pictures
pictures of me at holidays
with my family
pictures of me at the shoreline
with my friends
pictures of vacations
in my car
pictures of my face;

scattered like ashes
everywhere around this country
without you;

I realize
all these moments
we’re living
all these memories
we’re making
without one another;

I realize the obvious
we truly are
living completely separate lives
with our families
and our friends
and our vacations
and our cars;

suddenly I’m thinking
who are you sleeping with
who saw these pictures before me
who was present for these moments
maybe even behind the camera
who’s the little s***
that gets to have you
cause it’s surely not me;

and then I see
a picture of you and I
the one I took
by 18th Avenue;

the one with your sunglasses on
and the blanket from the beach
wrapped around your
perfectly porcelain face;

and now I realize
that’s what this is all about
we’re all disjointed
we’re all scattered ashes
blowing in some wind
taking us in different directions
us humans man,
we’re all f****** directions
and there’s millions of us
more disjointed from the last;

it’s not about
your vacations
or my vacations
your friends
or my friends
your car
or my car
no, it’s about the moments
when those delicate winds
blow us together
like Fall leaves
piled on one another;
and I find myself landing
next to you
it’s about the moments
that pictures don’t exist
when I held you in my arms
in your bed;

before I got up to catch my flight
when I played that song for you
and you smiled
when we drank cheap beer
and spun records
when we watched old movies
under your blanket;

there was no camera there
those memories
won’t forever live
on a piece of film
exposed by chemicals
and stored in a shoe box
under a bed for decades
no, there wasn’t a camera for those moments
they existed
but only for you and I.

  • Ashish Jain October 5, 2012 at 10:40 am

    i reckon wid d way u feel man….amazingly expressed…pictures r more dan jst mere commodity…dose moments are special…be it in ur memory..impressive 🙂

  • nina October 9, 2012 at 8:47 pm

    hi, how do i communicate with Dear Mark Pepe ? tnx

    • Praveen October 10, 2012 at 11:04 pm

      You can email him at rc86mike – at – mac dot com

  • Michael Pepe October 11, 2012 at 7:06 am

    Thank you for the kind comments! Feel free to e-mail me Nina at rc86mike@mac.com and check out my poetry blog http://www.theworldthroughyourwindow.tumblr.com. Thank you for reading.

  • eriemorganmaples October 12, 2012 at 4:25 pm

    i love it really i do

  • nina October 19, 2012 at 9:05 pm

    Dear Michael, i hope to be friend with you,but i could not email you ,because error in email address,so i would love to add you in facebook, hope to accept