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Open Poetry #21
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Magnus
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Member Laureate
since 2001-10-10
Posts 14135
South Carolina, USA

0 posted 2002-08-07 07:35 PM


This is a little long....but it is my heart
writings....I wish to share them...


A vacant wall where pictures once
displayed the family within.
Dust sleeping in endless areas of
wooden terrain no longer touched by cloth.

Vacant windows no longer smiling of the love
within the walls.  So many eyes had
seen through these portals watching for a
man called “PawPaw” to come home.
Time travels on.

Creaking floors groaning a welcome to tired feet
having walked too many cracks on a gray
cement ribbon.    Compelled to this place
by memories.

Wandering oaks still gracing the yard with
a coolness of shade which courted the minds
of young boys digging through endless
piles of sand in a quest for the conquering of
the queen,  the vanquishing of the horrible
mummy who lived within a child’s cave.

Tired gray knotted shed standing alone at
the end of a yard which used to seem to be
an endless depth,  far beyond the range of
the hardest ball hit by an eight year olds wooden bat.
The chain link fence on the left a dreaded place to
hit the ball,  for old Mrs. Dean lived there.
She always hated when her fence was climbed.

Remembering how his heart raced as he climbed
that fence,  too tall for his little legs to jump
easily over.

Strawberries grew there,  there at the end
between two ancient peach trees now barren
of fruit..  The highest peaches were always
the sweetest…  

Bawberries he called those succulent red little orbs
nestled within green leaves….saying pick me, pick me!
So many times he brought the green ones in too.
Dipped in sugar with a dash of milk…..pure heaven.
Now just a patch of dry earth absorbing the sun’s
rays and raising the tallest weeds….

Sadly walking back from the yard,  looking up into
the oaks,  remembering the time a friend had fallen
out,  breaking his wrist.  Must have been 20 feet
up in the air,  though now it could have been only
About 10.

Looking for the parachute that he made from a kerchief
and a bolt.  Threw it high into the air,  dangling there.
Even the spray from a hose could not get it down.  Straining
to see if it were there….Time must have gotten it down
years ago.

Standing in front of the house,  hands in pockets,   a tear
falling from an older and wrinkled eye upon the cement
sidewalk where miles of rides in a little red wagon had
been jockeyed through the cracks.  Always fighting over
whose turn it was….Just one more time…..If only…He
would give up his turn this time.

The sun setting now,  casting long shadows upon the
porch.  A dilapidated swing still hanging from one
hook.  Gosh,  how many cars did he count as he
swung in that swing on those cool evenings
and listened to the Switch Engine in the train
yard move countless cars to their next destination.

Memories of a man,  once a boy…..of wonderful times
when the windows of a house smiled and
held frames of more memories on walls that didn’t
need to speak and floors that didn’t creak….

The sign on the front door told it all was
coming to an end soon.   One word stood
out ominously…..

“CONDEMNED”



© Copyright 2002 Barry J. Tackett - All Rights Reserved
catalinamoon
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Member Rara Avis
since 2000-06-03
Posts 9543
The Shores of Alone
1 posted 2002-08-07 07:38 PM


Oh my, this reaches so many memories.
Beautiful
Sandra

Mistletoe Angel
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since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816
Portland, Oregon
2 posted 2002-08-07 07:43 PM




(big hugggssssss) Oh Barry, I know how bittersweet memories can be so very much, while I am happy you have shared all your wonderful memories with us I know how it must feel to see years later where everything is and be haunted by those flashbacks; every time I go to Missouri to visit my grandparents I visit their old houses and I see the old tire swings and sandboxes and kitchen room floors creak and I see tears fall down my grandparents cheeks and I know how much home meaned to them and I give them big hugs and tell them that home will awlays be where the heart is and nothing can ever change that! (BIG HUGGGSSSS) God Bless You, sweet friend, this is a long write yet I also believe it is one of your best ever because it is so honest and touches my heart deeply by its emotions, we all love you so much! You have such a beautiful heart, sweet Barry, thank you for sharing!



May love and light always shine upon you!

Love,
Noah Eaton

"Underneath your clothes there's an endless story..."

Shakira

ThisDiamond
Member Rara Avis
since 2002-02-22
Posts 9353
Michigan, USA
3 posted 2002-08-07 08:20 PM


Soothe thee in these memories so dear
For never and forever so remain unclear
The days that pass by happily to toast
For goodness rests more quietly than most

And never to be fretful of the end
For always in beside to comfort friend
The days that shall remain as windows smile
For now to pass in peaceful dreams a while

Thank you for sharing this with us Barry.
ThisDiamond

ShadowRider
Senior Member
since 2001-07-14
Posts 1038
USA
4 posted 2002-08-07 08:24 PM


Magnus, i hope i don't bore you with this longwinded tale, but here it is.  One of my favorite houses i lived in, I got to visit a few weeks back, by accident.  Travelling down the old main road that our subdivision led off from, i saw a garage sale sign, of all things, with the address of my old house on it (from my  high school days).  Even though my schedule was running late that day, i HAD to stop.  There was the old house:  trees bigger, more plants, but pretty much the same house.  Inside the garage sale, there was the wall i hung my inside basketball goal where my friends and i would play with a mini-ball and 8 foot high basketball goal.  I had too many old-memory relapses there to mention here, but i bought some silly glass just to justify me being in there.  The lady looked at me, studiously for a couple of seconds.  She must have seen, in my eyes, that i KNEW the house, like a lover knowing every square inch of the other.  I walked quickly out before i would have to explain, but the feeling was eerie....laden with ghost-thoughts i thought had vanished from my brain cells.  Soooo...
let's just say, I understand your poem
and will just stand back and read it again
with an admiring gaze.

jeff

Magnus
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Member Laureate
since 2001-10-10
Posts 14135
South Carolina, USA
5 posted 2002-08-07 08:32 PM


Jeff,  thank you...

That old house was where I was born,  spent
many days at,  returned to countless times.
The day I left it,  I found a small bell
in the ground that was from a Christmas
ornament....  I don't know if that bell was
part of that house....But I do know it became
a part of me....  I'll never forget that
house,  and it still stands proudly within
my mind to this day....For nothing can
tear down the love of it or the memories
that I experienced....

Thank You Jeff....I can't say that enough...

Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
6 posted 2002-08-08 10:35 AM


...Looking for the parachute that he made from a kerchief
and a bolt.  Threw it high into the air,  dangling there.
Even the spray from a hose could not get it down.  Straining
to see if it were there….Time must have gotten it down
years ago. ...

~*~

It was missing because another child climbed up to get it down, wondering who threw it up in the first place, wondering, who was here before me?  Wondering, will I remember this day...

this, this is the house that stood outside the plum plum tree...

this, this is the house of childhood memories...

this...

is a


Jason
Member
since 2002-07-31
Posts 72
Macon, GA
7 posted 2002-08-08 01:50 PM


Magnus,

You have revealed yet another facet of the gem you have for a mind.
Well written and most precisely pointed out,
it ended.

Thank you Sir,
Jason Daniels

Practiced in the Art of Perception

Seymour Tabin
Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720
Tamarac Fla
8 posted 2002-08-08 03:11 PM


Magnus,
A fine piece of writing, enjoyed every word.

Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
9 posted 2002-08-08 04:37 PM


Barry

To go back, you look with the boy and the man.  Both meet at the front door, wanting to knock...feeling memory fall around ...and realizing that it is over.  Even houses die.

I loved this look into the play of a boy and the heart of the man.  So Poignant to read, and familiar.

Bill Charles
Member Patricius
since 2000-07-11
Posts 10619
highways, & byways, for now
10 posted 2002-08-08 06:59 PM


Barry - very strong memories I read about. You have written this well...

BC

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