Reason or reconstruction?
Fire at the mind parted--
An old doodle on an old page
Startled at play, lit by
Light of other days-- still
Lingers, a flame of shadows and
Fingers, begun --and time
Has left its lines undone.
All possible selves gone on
Their separate ways: an old
Page in an old book.
It does no harm to look.
Oh, wow.
ReplyDeleteI've been looking at my old journals and sketchpads, high up in my bookshelf, for years, and never daring to open them. Too afraid to look.
I love this poem, and the accompanying art. :)
Thanks Michelle. I guess we both took notes!
DeleteYour post reminded me the fact that one of my old computers ( a hand- me - down from our son) gave in. It broke from the hinges as I had opened and closed it several thousand times and my son must have done the same before he bought his new one. My pain is for the stories I had half written and never transfered them on a flash drive. It is a good thing that I started blogging. because good or bad I will have something that I wrote and others read.
ReplyDeleteYour poem speaks for a lot of us. The art makes me realize that we may get several manicures, the fact remains that we will come to a point when we won't recognize our own hands except for the work they have done and left behind.
THANKS!
On the contrary, it does great help to look. I am so grateful that you are allowing us into these spaces by posting to this workshop. Am going to reread, now.
ReplyDeleteAnd from your doodle a poem arose.
ReplyDeleteI like them, both.
Thanks for sharing, Geo.
Thanks all. I guess sketchbooks are a habit from when one has to work all the time and it's cathartic doodling images from mind and fleeting observation after getting through a day. I don't work at a job anymore but still doodle. Page from 1976 is helpful in a poem now, even though I worked 16-hour days that year. Still, this new generation has it rougher. Shop locally! Buy American.
ReplyDeleteYou must be a very organized person, keeping hold of the journal since 1976. I wasn't even born till 1990. Of course, it need not be said, you are a great poet.
ReplyDeleteHey Geo, "lit by light of other days" is a lovely phrase, I'd have been happy to have written it. Indigo
ReplyDeleteThanks Indigo. I'd be happy to have thought of it originally but had this "oops" feeling about it. Sure enough, it's an echo of Thos. Moore: " Fond Memory brings the light of other days around me." I don't know where HE got it from. I won't change it --Moore hasn't complained.
DeleteI do shop locally and buy American made goods even if I have to pay a little more.
ReplyDeleteAnother of yours, Geo., that shows the power of recollection and recall! Thanks!
ReplyDelete