Some days touch
Many others, all at once
piled on top of one another
a tangled ball of string.
This is one of those days.
Thoughts bob up
from beneath memory's ocean
and suddenly I'm drowning
in a hundred different days
going back thirty plus years
It's not all bad.
Some are good, some are sad,
Some make me smile
(nearly Easter twenty four years ago
aching with the flu, watching tiny dots out my bedroom window,
walking over Cave Hill, knowing those are my classmates
wondering which small dot is her.)
Then it's over, and the thin leaves
of the book of my days dries out
and I can't read through
to the other pages any more.
Not all at once
Just in the usual way, one word at a time.
Comments
anipani | April 19, 2008 - 13:34
enjoyed this very much, memory is jsut like this
nearside | April 20, 2008 - 03:06
Thank you for your comment! I've wanted to write a poem about this sort of thing for a while now. I actually want to put a few together around this theme, perhaps I will. Thanks again!
Mdombe | April 22, 2008 - 15:38
Hi there,
I really enjoyed reading your poem 'string theory'. Its written in a way that I and I'm sure, many others can truely relate to. It describes the many memories that lie hidden within "memories ocean" and resurface from time to time. The same memories, (whether good/bad) hwhich elp shape our lives.
Nice one :).
Mdombe
nearside | April 25, 2008 - 18:46
Thank you - I think I mix three different metaphors into this poem, without making it too muddled - the tangle of string, the memory ocean and the wet transparent pages... I'm glad you liked one of the three, and could relate. Thanks for the kind words!