Sunday, August 3, 2014

Memories Fall, Scatter to the Wind

she sleeps peacefully, yet not at all
the world seems to stop, slip away, and fall

had I known
my last goodbye would be greeted by cold hard stone...

beneath lovely boughs
magnolia's first bloom
brings sweet memories of you
                                     pink hues
i watch rain

that last breathing memory
                           etched on my heart

I knead dough
roll / pull / twist / punch
wishing these hands were yours

How long can I tread tears before
    I drown in them?

memories of you seep through my veins

and asking for directions
not an option

lost: unarmed.  I stare towards the fray

Is it wrong
for me to hope
your light still shines?

How many times can I wish for the arms
    that will never raise again before
    I crumble within?

How do I
                 continue to gaze into the flames
that sing now
                       for just me?

This is a compilation; the majority of lines are taken directly from another poem.  Each poem focused on the same overarching topic.  I felt I could not allow this day to pass without a piece, but I find myself lacking.  So, to celebrate I have created this piece by pulling from others in the order they were written.  (Since the last thing I wrote was the title it seemed fitting it would come from the most recent piece.)  I think for the most part they flowed well from one to the next, though the "i knead dough" is a little out of place.


Brian Miller said...

i was wondering who it was..on one of them i found the tag mom...i take it you lost your mom some time back? its hard to lose a parent...i am sorry...


Jeff said...

Very sad piece, and I think it flows well in spite of your fears to the contrary. Nice idea to use lines from old poems to create something new!

Poet Laundry said...

I didn't think the "knead dough" bit was out of place. I like it actually. A well done, heartrending piece RMP.

Victoria said...

I enjoy working with "erasure" poems such as you have done here. It turned out so well.

Mary said...

I think, no matter how old we are, we will continue to mourn the loss of our mothers. Really amazing the way you formed this poem, RMP. You have made the words your own & made the reader FEEL.