Thursday, May 18, 2006

An Epitaph for Memories of You

I am scared to think of you. You have become… a memory Like so many other things bygone – A mere thought. And that thought scares me. I am alarmed at the fact that you are Only an ephemeral firing of some neuron That bears your name in my mind. Your images Flicker rapidly, Moving too quickly for me to grasp Memories of you jostle against each other Blurring the chronology of events Smudging the precision of your face I am petrified by the sight of your Ghostly image projected on the walls of my consciousness I cannot have you haunting my soul I cannot have you addicting my mind And yet, you are there… somewhere… Inside the dark murkiness of my head I wish I could gather your body into the fold of my arms I wish I could admire the mirthful gaze of your eyes I don’t want you in my thoughts I want you in the body I do not wish to forget you But I do not wish to make you a memory to think of How grotesque it is For a being full of life and vigor and animation For a being that exemplifies “laughter let loose in the Universe”* To be twisted, chained and locked in the chambers of my brain, To be tangled among a sad mess of dendrites. Will my body ever shudder under your touch again? Or will memories like translucent dew Be all that I will have left Of you? ============================================= *Ayn Rand used those words to describe the paintings of her husband.

5 Comments:

Blogger innommable said...

That is so beautiful and filled with emotion!

5/18/2006 05:08:00 PM  
Blogger JohnJEnright said...

Lovely. And nice use of a Rand quote.

5/18/2006 08:12:00 PM  
Blogger Ergo Sum said...

Thank you. The idea for the poem came to me on a sleepless night when my mind was racing with thoughts and memories. And i suddenly realized, "Oh my god! I have only memories of you left!" And that thought scared me. Hence, the poem.

5/19/2006 01:52:00 AM  
Blogger Jason Hughes said...

Beautiful... simply beautiful...

5/19/2006 05:36:00 PM  
Anonymous devdas said...

“When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough.”

5/27/2006 01:54:00 PM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home