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Open Poetry #40
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Michael
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Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California

0 posted 2007-02-14 06:17 AM



For Forgetting


On the top shelf of the closet, layered with years of dust,
I came across the oubliette of faith, and hope, and trust.
A coffee canister – silver – with memories inside,
And all the emotion proffered that long since should have died.
The sufferer’s domain it was, I could not shun the hook.
And though the moment gave me pause knew I still had to look.
A myriad of objects I once held close to my heart,
I sifted them slowly and sighed, not sure just where to start.

I glanced upon the high school ring I gave my sweet Jeanette,
First love, it struck like lightning, I would not soon forget.
The stopwatch with a wild buck under a hunter’s gun,
My brother used to hold for luck way back when he was spun…
His last possession shared with me, across a bridge once burned,
Far better man than I could be, the lesson that I learned.
Ironic piece, it seems to give me everything but time,
With hands frozen, trapped like the poet in yesterday’s rhyme.                                                        

The Santa Monica sunset, caught in a photograph.
No longer tinged with the regret that ripped my life in half.
I see it now and recognize it as a need I clutched,
The soft white skin and deep green eyes of a dream I once touched.
Old pocket knife, a Bear Scout patch, Willie Brown football card.
Strange the things to which we attach, next those we disregard.
Kiss concert ticket, old chess piece – the image ever drawn
Within my mind -- father’s caprice, the power of the pawn.

One thing leading to another… to the two-dollar bill
Given me by my grandmother while money held appeal.
Stone arrowhead I pried in kind, from Nevada’s rare earth
Buffalo nickel to remind me what my red skin’s worth.
Candleholders shared on the cakes of my dad and daughter
Count for me in years the mistakes that still muddy the water.
Shall I then pass them on again, in some twisted tradition?
Or save my grandchildren the pain, and bury the rendition.

I throw the trinkets in the can to let the silence hark
The trophies of this man mired forever in the dark.
Try not to be a bitter man, ignoring the bloodletting,
To the top shelf I place the can if only for forgetting.
I walk away, alone and tired, if somewhat compromised,
But if I feel less than inspired well who would be surprised?
Though it amazes me how much one little can will hold;
How little to my life, as such, is there really?  Behold!


Michael Anderson


[This message has been edited by Michael (11-18-2007 10:00 PM).]

© Copyright 2007 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved
Sunshine
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Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
1 posted 2007-02-14 07:46 AM



Amazing, what memories can do.
Beautifully sad piece, m'friend.




nakdthoughts
Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200
Between the Lines
2 posted 2007-02-14 07:51 AM


a beautiful, touching write, Michael, giving me pause to think about my own trinkets of the past.

M

Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191
Cape Cod Massachusetts USA
3 posted 2007-02-14 08:12 AM


A lifetime in a canister.  I have a box that's pretty similar.  Well done, m'friend - and Happy Valentine's Day to you..
passing shadows
Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577
displaced
4 posted 2007-02-14 10:30 AM


all that in one little canister

thanks for sharing pieces of your life

trutodaraiders
Senior Member
since 2006-12-02
Posts 820
CA
5 posted 2007-02-14 12:30 PM


Lifetime in a canister might be a good title for this poem? Well written thanks for sharing.
serenity blaze
Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738

6 posted 2007-02-14 03:57 PM


I think about death alot, and often wonder what kind of story my stuff would tell...

(I mean--only a few will ever understand the framed lizard, right?)

But you have done a lovely thing with this Michael--perhaps you should print this out and put it in the can too.

(grin--I've got a box of rocks from all around the world--countries I have never seen and I can tell you the exact geography and the friend who gave it to me, and the story behind it too)

Some things are just for us.


Rod
Member
since 1999-12-08
Posts 149
Auckland New Zealand
7 posted 2007-02-14 08:52 PM


You have really got your heart into this.
Well done.
Write on.

icequeen
Senior Member
since 2001-12-09
Posts 633
FL USA
8 posted 2007-03-15 12:42 PM


I went searching for you, because I missed you and your poetry ... and I found this... and remembered with you. A long night of "Top Of The Hill" {between you, Master and I}, trying to distract me with messages on ICQ lol... and Nan locked the thread on us just as I won! ha ha ha  I think we are the reason that when one replies to one's own poem, it doesn't bump back to the top !!!!

So am I still Queen of the Hill? LOL...nah

I still have the challenge poem about believing in Santa - your son liked it, which is one of the highest honors I've ever received.

It's been too long, Michael. I am glad to have found you still here.

Hugs~~~
Caroline

ecrivan
Member Elite
since 2001-12-10
Posts 3923
my own state
9 posted 2007-03-16 11:08 PM


nice tribute to life's big memmories in smaller containers..


Janette
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Member Elite
since 2001-07-20
Posts 2843
Chicagoland for now
10 posted 2007-03-17 12:18 PM


A touching tribute to your treasures.

And I must admit this line did ... jump out at me:
"I glanced upon the high school ring I gave my sweet Jeanette"

Different spelling, different girl but it still made me smile and remember ... rings.


Much enjoyed!

always seeking joy, adventure and romance and wishing you find the same

Martie
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Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
11 posted 2007-03-18 11:18 AM


Dear Michael...I'm so glad you put the can back.  So many treasures within it bring memories to you of times poignant and unsure with growth, but to a person years from now they will be like holding pieces of your life.  I wish I had a coffee canister like that, instead of the old cigar box with nothing in it.
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