I lay remembering

[busker]

I lay remembering 

From the moment we’re born, we’re dying,
all, all terribly,
slowly or swiftly,
lying to ourselves,
denying bland reality
with convenient ghosts.

I sympathise with Yeats
and Blake against banality -
an old man’s senility
can start the dead.

Darling, you were lovely tonight,
all shuddering loins,
the purloined joys of youth,
your mouth 
round with affectation.
And afterwards, when you had left,
the car’s fan belt squeaking,
I lay remembering
a moonlit bridge in Venice.

[TranquillityBase]

This is beautiful.

I did find two phrases hit me the wrong way, or in a way I didn't think fit the rest of the poem:

"bland reality"........I wanted some other word than bland....bland is, well, bland

"your mouth
round with affectation"........affectation?  that seems a negative spin I would not expect.  almost thought it must be a typo for affection

all the rest of the lines are super

[busker]

Thanks, TqB.
'bland' is a poor choice, I agree.
The feedback on 'affectation' was useful. I was going for the negative spin, but it's good to have a reader's perspective on how it clashes with the rest of the poem.

[Mark A Becker]

Hey busker-
I'm not convinced by this one.  I get the move from born-to-dying but don't need it spelled out, or the Blake/Yeats addition. For me, the entire sentiment is spoken in the last stanza. That said, more eroticism is needed to convince me of that last line. Below, I've vandalized your poem:

We're lying to ourselves,
denying the certainty
of our reality, and we do so,
so conveniently.

Darling,
you were lovely tonight,
all shuddering loins,
and purloined joys of youth,
your mouth needs sexier decription, something like "your pouting lips"
round with affectation. You really need to add on here to emphasize the "purlioned joys". Something explicit about the stolen moments. We're all adults here, I think. This needs to be the meat of the piece.

And afterwards, when you had left, This denouement is a good move.
the car’s fan belt squeaking, Nice sonic image
I lay remembering
a moonlit bridge in Venice. Good, subtle ending, yet requires more that leads to it.

[rowens]

The last stanza represents a tawdry diminished encounter. Hence the fan belt.
The last line is a vision of a sublime worth remembering.
Starting the dead also foretold the clunky-sounding car.