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Open Poetry #40
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When My Memory Feels Like My Imagination
| Open Poetry #40 |
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When My Memory Feels Like My Imagination |
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Mistletoe Angel 
since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816Portland, Oregon |
(Here's a very emotional write about having to watch older people cope with Alzheimer's from a younger person's perspective, as my 12-year old neighbor Ferguson is currently coping emotionally as his grandmother has begun to forget names at times, and was thinking of him when writing this.) * When My Memory Feels Like My Imagination By: Noah Eaton 1/27/07 Glancing at the photos, lined up and down the hallway, pilot lights of emotion, glare across my eyes and ricochet, I’ve worn her breath like a rainbow, I feel like tightening it like a noose, braided with accidental wonders, that I never want to lose. All at once, I feel the whole world leaning backward, gravity diffusing fact, when my memory feels like my imagination, between the leaves, of dozens of proven summers, I’m moved by the faintest waft, when my memory feels like my imagination. Pacing across the front lawn, seeing if roses have bloomed this December, annotating the lasting perfume, while mistaking the fireflies from the embers, everything woven by your hands, becomes priceless in sentimental value, every page of your diary I never read, somehow has a way of breezing through... All at once, I feel the whole world leaning backward, gravity diffusing fact, when my memory feels like my imagination, between the leaves, of dozens of proven summers, I’m moved by the faintest waft, when my memory feels like my imagination. I’ve learned the hard way, that there’s a torch-bearer in every cupboard, summoned by the static, of every unspoken word, as the clouds keep filling your mind, I can still feel your sunshine deep inside, just by the touch of your hand, I know feelings hold greater depth than names in life... All at once, I feel the whole world leaning backward, gravity diffusing fact, when my memory feels like my imagination, between the leaves, of dozens of proven summers, I’m moved by the faintest waft, when my memory feels like my imagination. I’m moved by the faintest waft, when my memory feels like my imagination. I’m moved by the faintest waft, when my memory feels like my imagination. "If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other" Mother Teresa |
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| © Copyright 2007 Nadia Lockheart - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
A very compassionate piece of writing. It was as if you knew first hand the afflictions that come with this debilitating disease. I slowly watched my father-in-law slip into dementia, and it was an agonizing process. I was moved to write a poem about Alheimers as well. I commend you on your caring, sensitivity ~ and talent.  Giving you a loving hug and a healing prayer for this man and his family Linda |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Nice writing....I think what is special to those that are older and suffering, from their perspective, is to have family members around to offer them love and attention...to feel connected...James |
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sandgrain Member Elite
since 1999-09-21
Posts 3662Sycamore, IL, USA |
An aquaintance volunteered in the nursing home where her mother resided. In the last 4 years, her mom didn't know her daughter, and spent her days sitting silently in her wheel chair with a cloth doll on her lap. When expressing my sorrow at her passing, I added, "It has to be hard." My aqaintence said it wasn't nearly as hard losing her this time as it was losing her when her mind left. I think there's a lot to that statement. Like seeing someone you love through a window, not being able to touch and talk with them because they don't recognize you. Nice write, Noah. You have such great compassion. God bless, Rae |
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MARK V SHELDON Member Elite
since 2001-06-21
Posts 3015In a corporeal internship... |
Noah, your poetry is as evoking, vibrant, visual, and heart-felt as ever. You have done well honing your talent since the last work of yours I read a while back. You see the world through your heart -- many could learn from you, and I hope you never stop writing. -MVS You CAN make a difference, but first you should learn how: http://educate-yourself.org/intro.shtml |
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