Tag Archives: memories
Yesterday (Video)
A History of Mirrors
It takes a moment to recognize the face I see,
rough cartography that looks like deceit,
lies between us, a confusing ambiance;
big; small – they are all wounding.
Look away and speak to me only in silence,
you are the last I want to hear.
I’ll extinguish the lights,
scream until my lungs rise like flames,
reducing my thoughts to ashen remains,
that glow beneath the cacophony.
Embers radiating a dim red light –
of fear,
but you and I,
we’ll call it anger.
Hush
They drown me
in bittersweet humility – to live these days
where we know their whispers
but too late to love them.
Vagabond
Nostalgia is a weary hat in a lost town.
It speaks soberly of altered states,
and doesn’t belong there,
but it did-
it did.
The brim is warped leather,
the crown, sulking against the skull beneath,
with deep canals born of frowns and smiles
indiscernible from those that rest
on the shoulders
of endless hours that bridge the days,
swallow the years
and sever the link to innocence.
It is a native-born traveler,
returning as family,
but with the wear of life upon it,
like a refugee denied asylum,
home again
a stranger in a strange land.
A Night Out
The coiled rind of an orange,
in a glass of chilled amber.
A child alone and fetal.
Appointment
It’s a long drive through blurred countryside,
cars shuffling impatiently like high stakes card games.
The wheels spin blindingly fast,
reliving hardships,
joy
each burst of laughter,
every embrace, every tear.
Whether the days were full
or wanting;
the nights serene,
or fitful.
We hold hands,
the connection between us like a conduit,
relaying all that energy
that couldn’t touch us when we were grounded.
We keep the radio off,
listening now to those old thoughts;
those historic machines-
loud enough to drown out the static sounds of the road.
It’s a long drive,
but this kind of silence can be comforting.
A Lament
I regret the tragedies that broke me,
the quiet moments after, parsing thoughts,
finding solace when I should have suffered,
and, at last, forgetting the lesson learned.
I regret mysteries I did not see,
those theaters of war where I should have fought,
the responsibilities I deferred,
and not recognizing what I had earned.
I regret not letting my anger be,
becoming the anxiety it sought,
not heeding the advice that was conferred,
and ignoring the peace that I so yearned.
I regret thinking time was like the sea,
capricious waves in which we were all caught,
a purity otherwise unperturbed,
and not an ocean, overfished and spurned.
The Return
We try so hard to find the words
to remember the fading dream,
catch falling water with our hands;
to capture the best memories.
There is no jar that can hold them,
but go on and puncture the lid.
No box so large as to entomb,
but go on and wrap what you can.
Their fragile nature makes them great
while also the cause for heartbreak;
for the truth that they make us feel
cannot reconcile what is real.
Though we are obliged to live lies,
and the moments we truly lived
will fade into obscurity;
take solace in what gifts they give.
It is in those spaces we find
the time to appreciate love
and enjoy one another’s truths
that have eluded us since youth.
Unfettered by any demands
we become what we’re meant to be,
but like sifting desert sands;
that power is far too costly.
Still, I want all those memories;
the haunting phantasm of those dreams,
the moist lips of a desperate drink;
let photographers fill in those blanks.
Yesterday
The years soak like rain
through the clothes
chilling the skin
torturing the bones.
In the now,
all the days before-
the days to come;
are a murky stew of moments
that obscure the current one.
I scream my first lungfull
and take my last,
prepare for another.
The stew stirs,
cools
congeals;
fresh off the stove,
and half finished.
I don’t know…
I don’t know…
I know only,
Today is tomorrow’s yesterday.
Grow Gray With Me 