reflections on Billy Liar
reflections on Billy Liar
why can’t I be happy
like Julie Christie
stepping from that lorry cab
carefree – hair swinging loose
to a background jazzy flute?
my lift’s dropped me
in the Midlands,
Redditch? Hanley?
Burslem? Longton?
I’m knackered,
no grub, no digs,
pubs are shut
no cigarettes
I’ve no friend to ring and ask,
‘can you come and pick me up?’
I only wanted love,
to live in love,
share it with you,
get a little back
knowing you were mine
and I was yours,
would turn my life
from grey to wondrous –
I’d skip broken backstreets
like Julie Christie
that day she changed the world
winter nights, warm duvets
a lover’s breath brushing my face
wondering at her night sighs,
mutterings, and giggles
as the picture house inside her head
runs ‘one night only’ movie reels
our lives were suffocated
by the pain we inflicted
battling for the ‘upper hand’,
constant fighting quenched the light
of that high and holy land –
the dreamscape we created,
you, me, kids, a family
how did it come to this?
not even a barbed-wire ‘so long’ kiss
she called me bastard,
I called her bitch
we should have settled for
easy coming, easy going,
casual indifference –
we chose love and tasted bitterness
I did not want to hurt her
she did not want to hurt me
not really – it happened anyway
God may forgive us for what we committed
to break free of the others’ clutches…
but we can never forgive one another.
© coolhermit 2023
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Another enthralling tale told in your special way. Nice one Rick.
Thanks,Griff, that Julie Christie eh? She turned my head forever. Unlike Billy, I caught the train – ended on the buffers but hey ho 🙂
Rick
Brought to mind Paul Simon and “Darling Lorriane”
What!? you don’t love me anymore?
What!? you’re walking out the door?
What!? you don’t like the way I chew?
Hey, let me tell you
You’re not the woman that I wed
Spent a month once living in the same house and not a word passed between us. Once broken it’s hard to fix. Superglue doesn’t cut it.
Bhi
Never fall in love – it always ends in tears – either tears of bereavement or tears of spiteful antipathy. My wife and I hardly spoke – I assumed it was because we were attuned mentally and spiritually – I found out the hard way when she left the family 🙁
Don’t know the Paul Simon – I was/am jazz and blues and the Incredible String Band 🙂
Rick