Memento
In my thoughts
Each time
I think about
What I’ve lost—
Friends I knew
Who went away
And where we went
On certain days…
It’s futile
Conjuring scenes
Time travelling
In my head
Scrying
Images
Beneath
The pentimento
Of dried up
Remembrances
Brush strokes
Of regret—
Pathetic
Attempts
At revising
Or erasing
All for the sake
Or revisiting
A windy day
In March
When your red mittens
Were blown
Into the lake
And precious memories
With them.
A giant eraser doesn't work. Your life is your painting with all the beauty and unfinished parts. The good thing about life or paintings is that you can brush over your mistakes with another color.
Ah, that is the essence of what I was implying with the word, pentimento. Very perceptive :)
I've not heard that word before....just looked it up so now I know.
well, you learned another word tonight - invulnerable - but I prefer being vulnerable :)
I know about being vulnerable - maybe I'll post about it.
At first glance I see "The pentimento Of dried up Remembrances" as layers of extinct memories once held precious but have gathered thick dust over time. At second glance the pentimento is a minute glimpse into the world that was; a constant stacking of bravado and pretentious hiding hoping the world will never discover the real you. At third glance the remembrances have dried in stark contrast to the memories drowning with the mittens.
Three layers of analysis and heartfelt appreciation for another poem by @johnjgeddes as smooth as the long walkway to the lighthouse.
Well, you certainly are adept at explicating a poem's meaning by analyzing the subtext. All of these interpretations have validity - my intention is but another possible meaning. I will say this, as I said in A Familiar Rain, we often overwrite our memories. If you look closely at the bridge which is the actual location of the poem, the painting is a work in progress with the left side sketched out but unfinished. Curiously, no one noticed or commented on that. "We strive to connect with the past only to discover that Heraclitus was right--you can't step into the same river twice." Good work!
Brilliant @johnjgeddes, simply brilliant. I always say we're either telling memories, making memories or we're just not living. Memories have always fascinated me...without our memories - who are we?
so true...thanks, @doghaus
Stunning - I think the older we get the more we tend to do this
thanks, @anneke
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You are my favorite steemit writer. You're works always touch me.
thank you, @strongnbold
The total explication by @johnjgeddes and @doghaus makes the poem penetrating. A good couching of a poem with the subsequent analysis that sharpens constructive thinking.