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Open Poetry #32
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icebox
Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383
in the shadows

0 posted 2004-07-03 01:07 PM



A noise,
some chance harmonic
of dry steel on new rust,
just a large truck passing by
must have opened a door in memory
where I'd been leaning sipping coffee
laced with cardamom
and scraped vanilla,
listening to the counterpoint
in the Song of Tomahawks
played on wooden flute.

Until this moment,
I'd thought only the shrill high trill
of a consecrated whistle,
cut from a hollow bone
gifted from an eagle's wing,
still could bring me back forty years
to face again the challenge
and the rites of passage into manhood;
how swift the melting of the walls
in my comfortable hand built reality,
the gift of imagery
unwrapped in an instant,
to shift a continent away,
to sift four decades from the day
and face again the canyon walls
that timelessly
hold death and its redemption.

The high speed run of memory
never fails,
hurrying to reach its point,
the flash of stark awareness
and I'm returned to my small fortress
coffee still hot in my hand,
reminded
that to walk away from memories
is just a fool's errand,
and the footprint trails
were not just left
upon the surface of sand.

©2004 by icebox

© Copyright 2004 icebox - All Rights Reserved
passing shadows
Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577
displaced
1 posted 2004-07-03 01:16 PM


there is a way about you that I can't put into words, but I feel you and it is awesome enough to make me sit back, sigh, and shake my head
Copperbell
Senior Member
since 2003-11-08
Posts 956

2 posted 2004-07-03 01:22 PM


So many images go through my mind in reading this one - I'm going to drink this one in again
Copperbell
Senior Member
since 2003-11-08
Posts 956

3 posted 2004-07-03 01:25 PM


Okay, so now maybe you could write about the continent four decades ago... and maybe include the canyon???

This is so full for the imagination

Earth Angel
Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215
Realms of Light
4 posted 2004-07-03 01:37 PM


..."footprint trails
were not just left
upon the surface of sand."

~ and that, Dear Box of Ice, is one of the many reasons why you are such a phenominal poet.


EA

Seymour Tabin
Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720
Tamarac Fla
5 posted 2004-07-03 01:51 PM


icebox
Well done, enjoyed the read.

Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
6 posted 2004-07-03 02:04 PM


icebox

"how swift the melting of the walls
in my comfortable hand built reality,
the gift of imagery
unwrapped in an instant,
to shift a continent away,
to sift four decades from the day
and face again the canyon walls
that timelessly
hold death and its redemption."

To be able to open the doors of time is a gift.  

Susan
Member Ascendant
since 2004-03-27
Posts 5104
walking the surreal
7 posted 2004-07-03 02:33 PM


that to walk away from memories
is just a fool's errand,
and the footprint trails
were not just left
upon the surface of sand.

I enjoyed the feel of this entire piece, but these lines really hit me.  What a great way to describe memories etched upon one's soul.

  Susan

Happiness isn't something that happens to you, it's created from within you.  Joy is a state of mind.

iliana
Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434
USA
8 posted 2004-07-03 02:49 PM


What an excellent example of how our senses attach to memories... maybe for a reason sometimes, maybe not.  This wistful poem has left me pondering why that is.  Much enjoyed the write, Icebox, as always.....jo
Honeybunch
Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115
South Africa
9 posted 2004-07-03 03:50 PM


"to walk away from memories
is just a fool's errand,
and the footprint trails
were not just left
upon the surface of sand."

I see these words have hit home to others as well as myself.  There's only one thing to do with memories - swallow them and when they repeat remember we did only what we could with the limited amount of knowledge/awareness available to us at the time and then ... swallow again!

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