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Passions in Poetry

Slippage of the Mind

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Member Ascendant
since 08-13-99
Posts 6614

0 posted 12-25-2012 05:19 PM       View Profile for Michael   Email Michael   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for Michael

Slippage of the Mind

The look in his eyes tells me I'm doing it again.  Not forgetting... just muddling facts.  Trying to convey some rare and priceless to me detail or story I've kept tucked away for years; ready to pull out, appearing from thin air, for the innocent bystander in feeble attempt to impress, or more than likely, just hoping to fit in.

But that look.  That look tells me I've got it wrong.  This man, who for so long has used wit as a weapon, and more recently fact as a crutch, now can't even do that.  I've got the story right, but my mind, while reaching through the dark recesses of stored information can't seem to pull out the correct pieces at the correct times.  Who turned out the lights?  

My son used to correct me, and I would be embarrassed by this.  Now, he just watches me with that compassionate look in his eyes that tells me I'm babbling again, realizing I've got the pieces wrong, yet not for the life of me being able to come out with the correct ones.  It's all drawn to a strange conclusion then... him not wanting to hurt me, and me stopping in my presentation of facts, which are obviously wrong, to act satisfied.  I'm not acting satisfied out of any sense of pride, but merely trying to act like "I think" I'm still the man my son used to be so proud of.   I guess I'm just too scared to face the fact that I'm not that man anymore, and really don't have any idea who I've become.

Funny, though really it's not... I remember staring at my mother the way son now stares at me, and for the very same reason.  I thought her mind broken then.  I'm not so sure now.  I don't feel broken, just as if something is hindering me toying with me even, trying to keep me from reaching out and, in fact, preventing me from using speech with knowledge to elevate my own perception of worth to those I love.  A frightening prospect for someone who's never had anything else to offer.

Fate is a cruel teacher, and Irony just one of her sharp, wicked tools.  I used to joke about babbling.  "Babbling and foaming" to be precise.  I guess it's true we twist humor around the things we fear as we see them in others.  How else can I explain laughing at such a term, never once realizing what dire trauma, whether physical or psychological, might be causing it to begin with?

I so deserve this.  The price for the vanity of thinking I could, and did, know more than most people... so much more it seemed problematic to share after awhile.  The "knowing" silence I wrapped around myself now the quiet calm which is killing me.  What good are all those facts now, setting cross-linked in my brain?  What purpose can they serve?  I hear every tick of the clock and it resounds a thick, enveloping mist over a mind I falter my way through just trying to articulate one clear thought to put words to this darkness that one, who spent so many years enamored by the dark, never could have prepared himself for.

Michael Anderson

© Copyright 2012 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved
Professor Gloom
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since 07-23-2000
Posts 3113
of Depression

1 posted 03-01-2013 07:35 AM       View Profile for Professor Gloom   Email Professor Gloom   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Professor Gloom's Home Page   View IP for Professor Gloom

Fear not,
I have mind slippage all the time,
I blame old age, every time.
If you don't believe this is true all you have to do is read my ramblings.

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Member Rara Avis
since 01-27-2008
Posts 9092
Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy!

2 posted 03-10-2013 01:16 AM       View Profile for Alison   Email Alison   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Alison

I think I have looked at my Mom that way.  I have been a cartaker, car driver for her for the last five years.  I know I have done that.  Discounted her memories, wanted to roll my eyes, diminished her.  Now, well now, I see her strength and what an amazing woman she is.  She assures me that is what children do.  We are blind until we choose to see what is really in front of us.

Senior Member
since 01-20-2009
Posts 693

3 posted 08-08-2013 07:42 PM       View Profile for Namyh   Email Namyh   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Namyh

Michael - I know that slippage. Sometimes it's a slow oozing descent. Othertimes, it seems a 60 degree sloped headlong rush to a crash. The writing and penning of thoughts help a lot but we can't escape the creep of age, even with a smile. Let me say it before I forget it...I enjoyed reading your work very much. Namyh
Member Elite
since 09-26-1999
Posts 2659
Ontario, Canada

4 posted 01-21-2015 11:07 PM       View Profile for Marilyn   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Marilyn

As always, my old friend, a pleasure to read you.

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes ha

Member Empyrean
since 11-16-1999
Posts 32045
Kapolei, Hawaii, USA

5 posted 02-12-2015 08:33 PM       View Profile for JamesMichael   Email JamesMichael   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for JamesMichael

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