Posts Tagged ‘forget’

The Distance between two people

is such an Uncomfortable thing-

more so when one forgets it,

while the Other stays- lingering.

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No ripples in the lake.
No mirrors, only white walls.
Something’s missing from the shelf…
A face like wax paper.
A name as common as air.
The line’s been drawn,
there’s no turning back.

The World has shut its Eye

to me. I linger

outside the closed Lid- in Darkness, wond’ring why

I am in this Silence. I am Forgotten. Not having lifted a Finger.

written in the style of Emily Dickinson

How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
the world forgiving by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d….”

From Eloisa to Abelard by Alexander Pope.

Quoted in, what is perhaps my favorite movie, “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”. The poem deals with the concepts of divine love, tortured lovers, vengeance within the family, forgetting and letting go.

 

I walk steadily onward, remembering you.

Do not believe, in any instant, that I could forget you.

You are the hands which formed part of me;

you set my stones and built me, guided my hands

and taught me how to paint.

It has taken me until now to realize

that I etched those marks, dark as bruises, under your eyes.

I was the one that made you cry.

I dried you out and gave you nothing,

and for that I am sorry.

But my apology, I must acknowledge, is too late.

Sadly, I have written songs and poems in your honor.

I beg you now to forgive me for whatever poison writhes in them,

those snares have been forged but have yet to see daylight.

For now, I walk the city’s edge,

minding the tide where waves unfold

like wrinkles pressed out of velvet sheets.

You mind the bitter air in the heart of the city.

We’ll stay at these poles.

I may never know whether you read this.

I leave you, ask you to get plenty sleep,

and smile recalling your face during the conversations we had.

We are still teeth in the same mouth,

but we are not close enough to touch each other.

Slender and silent

he approached the frame.

They knew what not to call him,

but he did appear tame.

But soon he was forgotten,

left without a name,

in the shadows of the seamstresses

he decided to end the game.

Claws and fangs and fur like a crow’s plume

crept behind the spinning two, and unleashed their doom.

I’m afraid, I don’t understand.”

“Fool! Those two with molten hair– too late–

did not deduce the faults in what they spun.

And when they turned their backs,

he was no beast, but a man. And that man had won.”