Showing posts with label memory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memory. Show all posts

Friday, June 24, 2022

HER FACE, a poem

 

What do her expressions

in the photographs say

In most, she is smiling

In some, she is offering

an inexplicable face

 

Her happy countenance

captured in that moment

renews my memory

of her engaging smile

every day of our lives

 

Time erases most images

Photos make them available

to revive instances of life

that bring recurring pleasure

in again remembering

 

  

Monday, November 8, 2021

TOGETHER, a poem

 

 

Songs we sang together

spin through my mind,

lingering memories

of those happy times

With you

 

Walking all alone

to our park now

rouses a hunger

for those happy times

With you

 

Our breakfast table

began the feast

in my daily life

of those happy times

With you

 

A suggestion: try my novel, THE HERO, on Kindle

 

 

Friday, December 18, 2020

A WILTING BRAIN

 

        Struggling for the name

          of the sweet singing bird,

my ever-wilting brain

awaits a sudden spark

of minor memory

 

To every man and woman,

this form of mild dementia

cometh soon or late,

becoming ever worse

as we wait at the gate

 

Like Horatius of old,

I now stand ready to fight,

wielding a creative sword,

forged of my poetry against

the darkening of my light

 

Many readers will recognize the influences of Thomas Babington MacAulay’s THE LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME and Dylan Thomas’ DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT on this poem.

A suggestion: try my novel, THE JYNX, on Kindle

         

Saturday, June 13, 2020

MY RESERVOIR, a poem



My reservoir of words
of English with smatterings
of French, German, Italian,
and Spanish with bits
of Farsi and Arabic
available at my call
throughout my life
were collected from parents
from school, from books, from films
from conversations, from theater
from dictionaries and thesauruses
          The right word, the right phrase
          flowed at will
          into my novels, poems, articles
and conversations
then old age struck
The wanted words
slow in coming
or even blocked
by feeble recall
My reservoir remains full
but difficult to access


Thursday, November 7, 2019

GRIEVING, a poem


          Real men don’t cry
          tell that to my eyes
          filling with tears
          when I speak her name
          I loved her so much

          Fire consumed the shell
          that contained her spirit
          Mix my ashes with hers
          around the rock and path
          I loved her so much

          Perhaps soulmates
          are earthly fantasies
          that disappear in death
          There is this certainty
          I loved her so much
         
           ====

A suggestion: try my novel, THE JYNX, on Kindle