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Monday, 10 June 2013

Guest Poem by Lydia Bowden

Eyewear is very glad to publish online a new poem by our sometime music critic, Lydia Bowden; the poem's youthful amourous theme very much suits the summer as it sort of develops, here, in London, from overcast and muggy to some sun poking through. 
Bowden eating




Boyfriends Girlfriends



Aaron turned me into gold

and Tom made me look tall but

double in height was the other Tom.

Nick wrote the best love letters,

was more of a fling than any real thing

like Daniella and I,

I wonder where she went to,

until I fell for Adam, lasting all

of nine hand-holding, no-kissing

months until it all ended with

a run from a crowded room.

The feelings reappeared for Alice,

so I jumped into the bear arms

of Will, well, that’s the end of that

story.



Liam ignited a fire inside of

my tight fitting vest tops

where video games loomed

in a dark room, like a grave,

so across the street to Nick.

You were the first I ever saw,

take me to the floor, but just one

more computer game of autopilot, please?

I told him I was tired before I next picked

Tristan, older in mind set, younger in face let

me ride your car, like any other new teen

experience, experiment with me.

Things got in the way I said,

On I went to Sean I said, ok fine,

You can have a ride in mine

Any time, goodbye.



Different place, another face

comes Peter, I have a running theme

with the older, wine, fine I’ll

take you back to mine.

Another quick goodbye in the

form of a wide eyed Max.

James was someone that was there,

a couple here a couple there

but we both cared, care.

Sometimes we wait for each other,

maybe one day we’ll pucker

up, one final time.

But until that time, I tossed a dime

and fled, into bed with Thasos.

Chaos mit mayos.



But now I wait for Janey.
And I’ll still be

waiting for her twenty years

down the line,

this line that I’m struggling to climb.

It’s a shame that with time,

there is no exception like mine

to play with, so just play

with me one last time.


poem by Lydia Bowden
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