Been Nowhere, Seen Nothing

Do you remember when we kissed
in the dim bar, beneath the railway arches
that hypnotic smile you wore
the way you demanded to be held
as all hell broke loose between us

Do you remember how you took my hands
as we walked beside the rails
you thrust yourself into my grasp
pushed your body hard against mine
and stopped time

And I felt so alive
that I’d
been nowhere
seen nothing
before that night

I still think about the drunken orange skies
the red tail lights stretching on for miles
as we drifted through the sprawling city
the only heat; that which burned between us
pressing your entire being up against me

And I felt so alive
truly, I’d
been nowhere
seen nothing
before that time

I remember you so clearly
with such precise clarity
I wonder do you remember me
do you still think of me at all

Since then
I’ve been nowhere
seen nothing else…


Thanks for reading.

All my poems.

Published by

Tom Alexander

"Art is a lie that tells the truth"

11 thoughts on “Been Nowhere, Seen Nothing”

    1. Thank you Ben. Glad you thought it worked. This is one of those poems where all the details are pulled from different little parts of my life in 2014 to imagine something I was hoping might happen – and how it might play out if it were to happen. I find writing is often both fiercely autobiographic and complete fantasy in the same breath. What do you think?


  1. Heartbreakingly beautiful…I could feel myself in that time and place, and the sadness of losing it. And the wondering…do they still think of me as I do them? 💙

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much; yes that is the age old question isn’t it. Sometimes memories come back to vivid and hard and you find yourself transported and ultimately that’s the question that you wind up asking yourself. Thanks for reading and commenting, I really appreciate it.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Chris, so pleased you enjoyed that aspect of it. All I remember about this poem was that it came out of nowhere fully formed when I was trying out a new fountain pen. It’s quite surreal to think that there are these emotional little vignettes buried somewhere in our brains just aching to pop out.

      Liked by 1 person

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