deepundergroundpoetry.com
Holes In A Story
Putative journal pages reconstructing erased memories
Restored word for word in poetic lines and their stories
Tales recalled in digital files and ink fading on pages
Losing a past full of depression that forgetting assuages
A photo displays what a thousand words cannot say
While dozens more reveal faces on some happy holiday
No pictures or words make the narratives any more real
Without recall, can even the truth relieve the fear that I feel
Reading the record to relearn a life written in rhyme
Swallowed by a black hole out of context and time
Swirling amidst volcanic islands of vagaries
Stranded at twenty in a turbulent ocean of uncertainties
Twelve years of shadows haunting a house of cracked mirrors
Where reflections look back behind vaporous specters
Measuring the depth of a man to theorize his theorem
Unsure if the holes are as deep as the darkness that fills them
To be free of the taker out from under his circling cloud
An enlightening strike burning away the fog enclosed shroud
Shattering the man to cleanse the myth of crystal clear glass
A broken image in shards lies where the mourners will pass
*11/01/2011
Restored word for word in poetic lines and their stories
Tales recalled in digital files and ink fading on pages
Losing a past full of depression that forgetting assuages
A photo displays what a thousand words cannot say
While dozens more reveal faces on some happy holiday
No pictures or words make the narratives any more real
Without recall, can even the truth relieve the fear that I feel
Reading the record to relearn a life written in rhyme
Swallowed by a black hole out of context and time
Swirling amidst volcanic islands of vagaries
Stranded at twenty in a turbulent ocean of uncertainties
Twelve years of shadows haunting a house of cracked mirrors
Where reflections look back behind vaporous specters
Measuring the depth of a man to theorize his theorem
Unsure if the holes are as deep as the darkness that fills them
To be free of the taker out from under his circling cloud
An enlightening strike burning away the fog enclosed shroud
Shattering the man to cleanse the myth of crystal clear glass
A broken image in shards lies where the mourners will pass
*11/01/2011
Published 1st Nov 2011
| Edited 16th Jul 2018
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 7
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comments 9
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The author encourages honest critique.
2nd Nov 2011 00:04am
on sepia coloured photographs, half recalled conversations...that is so true Poetryman. Sometimes we recall a scene triggered by scents, like newly baked bread, mowed grass...and can't put a finger on it. Time at times is not kind.
2nd Nov 2011 00:22am
Thanks for the comment Grace. If not for my poetry and journal entries along with pictures at family gatherings, my life from 20-32 is mostly a mystery. There are bits and pieces, but often the only time I know what I don't remember is when someone brings up something that happened and I don't recall any of it, or sometimes images without context. Sometimes I remember faces but have no idea who they are. jj
2nd Nov 2011 00:12am
So many poignant layers and undertones in this poem..conveys deep emotion..beautifully written..peace Crim
2nd Nov 2011 00:23am
Thank you for commenting Crim.
Many of my poems came out of letters and journal entries that I still have, so I can see where they came from, but all I have is what I wrote. Sometimes I just can't place the memories I have in any context or time, so when I put together my books, I kept them in categories and listed them chronologically to tell the story of my life in poetry.
jj
Many of my poems came out of letters and journal entries that I still have, so I can see where they came from, but all I have is what I wrote. Sometimes I just can't place the memories I have in any context or time, so when I put together my books, I kept them in categories and listed them chronologically to tell the story of my life in poetry.
jj
5th Nov 2011 12:12pm
I wish I could be as emotionally mature as you are.p;[[[[[[[[
I wish I could be as emotionally mature as you are. You are very enlighted.
I am totally emotionally immature, but at least I can be poetic about it.
I want you to read my poem "On My 37th Birthday", which will be the next poem I publish, and tell me what you think, please.
I wish I could be as emotionally mature as you are. You are very enlighted.
I am totally emotionally immature, but at least I can be poetic about it.
I want you to read my poem "On My 37th Birthday", which will be the next poem I publish, and tell me what you think, please.
5th Nov 2011 2:56pm
Well, since I don't know you, I am not sure what you mean by that, but I can tell you that what has made me what I am has been a lot of humbling experiences that have made me realize I am no better than anyone else and life is hard.
Sometimes life really sucks but I have managed to make it to 48 somehow. Sometimes I wonder how I got this far and there have been a lot of times I wanted to end it, so does that make me more mature than you or anyone else? I don't know. All you can be is you and as long as you are all you can be, whatever anyone else thinks doesn't matter.
I will let you know what I think, but keep this in mind, I used to be an English Teacher, so I can be overly critical on spelling and grammar and word usage. So you might get a private message from me before I comment publicly, as I am not into public embarrassment. And if I don't like the poem, I will let you know, but also keep in mind that I have edited nearly every poem I ever wrote to some degree, so not liking a poem initially doesn't mean it's not good, it means it needs editing.
Now you may be thinking you asked the wrong person to read your work and tell you what I think... But accepting my criticism is all a part of maturing, HA!
jj
Sometimes life really sucks but I have managed to make it to 48 somehow. Sometimes I wonder how I got this far and there have been a lot of times I wanted to end it, so does that make me more mature than you or anyone else? I don't know. All you can be is you and as long as you are all you can be, whatever anyone else thinks doesn't matter.
I will let you know what I think, but keep this in mind, I used to be an English Teacher, so I can be overly critical on spelling and grammar and word usage. So you might get a private message from me before I comment publicly, as I am not into public embarrassment. And if I don't like the poem, I will let you know, but also keep in mind that I have edited nearly every poem I ever wrote to some degree, so not liking a poem initially doesn't mean it's not good, it means it needs editing.
Now you may be thinking you asked the wrong person to read your work and tell you what I think... But accepting my criticism is all a part of maturing, HA!
jj
22nd Jul 2012 7:09pm
I hope you do not take it the wrong way for my excessive comments, but I am fascinated even yet. This is my favorite of yours. The pain behind the words. How you play with words. The meaning. The flow.
22nd Jul 2012 7:16pm
I am enjoying it all. My ego hasn't been so inflated sine I was.. umm, well, i forget since when, lol!!! But don't stop now, I have about 200 more for you to read, LOLOLOL!!!! jj
