Three Poems by David Subacchi

Treated Like Water

Sorting old photographs your dark eyes
Looked up accusingly from the table
Still moving me after so long
I rescued you from a pile of family
Christmas snaps, party scenes,
Drunken nights in pubs and friends
Pulling stupid expressions
Holding you gently for a moment
Between finger and thumb
Then putting you to one side

I don't know why I did that
I had no plans for you
No folder in which to save
Your high cheek bones
And tight curls
No album or frame
For your portrait
But it wasn't easy
Just to throw you back
Into a jumbled box

Still that's what I did
All other options
Being unavailable
Or simply inappropriate
And the fault entirely mine
I dropped you once again
Into chaos and confusion
Trying hopelessly to shut out
The memory of your parting words

"I won't be treated like water."



Part Sicilian

She said she was part Sicilian
But the flashing eyes
Sharp as stilettos
Had already told me
And the short lived
Crimson blush
Meant I needed
No further convincing

When I spoke
Softly in Italian
Her lips opened slightly
As if to smile
Then curled gently
"I don't understand"
She breathed
Tugging roughly
At a strand of hair
Oh yes she was
Part Sicilian

Turning to leave
She moved
Leopard like
Confident
Of both power
And attraction
I heard neither purr
Nor warning growl
But felt the warm
Wake of her passing
Like summer breezes
Caressing a distant
Island shore.



Ormskirk Market

You drove me to Ormskirk
In your Austin Mini
Because I had no license
And wanted to look
For old records
In the weekly market

With my bag of dusty
Second hand discs
We wandered around
Until you gave me your
"Is that it?" look

I was eager to return
To Liverpool, to the cramped
Rented room we shared
Where the stylus waited
For new grooves to ride
But you were unimpressed

So we sat in a pub
Nursing half pints
Saying little
Then you looked away
With damp eyes
Saying you were also
In a hurry to return

Only when we
Reached the city lights
Did I realize that this
Was so you could
Spin me out of your life
As soon as possible.



David Subacchi was born in Wales (UK) of Italian roots and has published two collections of poems.  First Cut (2012) and Hiding in Shadows (2014).  He studied at the University of Liverpool and is a full time writer and poet.  He is increasingly well published internationally.  Blog:  http://www.writeoutloud.net/profiles/davidsubacchi  You can find more of David's work online, including performance videos simply by searching David Subacchi + Poet