Bones of Recall
Posted by Rob Kistner | Filed under Free Verse, Image, Poetry, photo
Bones of Recall
•
my memories gather and squabble
like the crows at stirling castle
they pick the bones
of my recall
bones against the cruel clay
of an arid
barren mind
littered with the harsh forgotten
like the bones of the dinosaur
I’m becoming
struggling
with what letters are made of
my words crack and crumble
my thoughts
parch and wither
a sad silhouette
cut lonely
against the minneapolis skyline
fighting to remember
what sylvia meant
meant to me
tender sylvia of my past
of my life
of our home
next door to dorothy
harder and harder to remember
the degrees of separation
growing ever greater
time to time
I catch a glimpse of my love
as she moves softly
comely as miss america
sensual as a shadowed nude
she smolders in the fog
of my reflected past
in bright flashes
splashes of vivid color
on torn and dirty
scraps of paper
blown in the mounting winds
of my confusion
dread rising
that I will soon not remember
what she meant to me
what you meant to me
my sylvia
a stirring fear I will forget
how a marriage
rare as ours
can last
how it did endure
and grow
finding richness
in moments of want
with the love we knew
this is not a poem
it is much more
this is a searching serenade
powerful as a double bass
sweet as a silver flute
this is a fractured tome
a cry of frustration
a tear of loss
a whispered prayer
an epitaph
to my fading map of you
cherished memories
loving
warm
and gentle
that now falter
and dim
slowly slipping
unintelligible
into the cacophony
of the crows at stirling castle
• • •
rob kistner © 2008
…inspired by writing prompt #59, found at “readwritepoem”.
January 2nd, 2009 at 9:08 pm
Beautiful depiction of memory; I love the images of the crows.
January 2nd, 2009 at 9:31 pm
Wow! What a sad, beautiful and haunting piece.
January 3rd, 2009 at 1:53 am
Absolutely beautiful.
January 3rd, 2009 at 6:34 am
Fantastic job using all those titles and making it make sense!
January 3rd, 2009 at 7:57 am
I like the crow analogy..
For richer and/or poorer
January 3rd, 2009 at 11:16 am
Wow! Romantic but also desperate. It is awful when we want to remember things and we can’t. But in your heart you will always know what Sylvia meant to you, right?
January 3rd, 2009 at 11:33 am
the cocaphony of crows.. what a beautiful ending!
January 3rd, 2009 at 12:18 pm
oh rob that was entrancing… and to you sylvia,,, know this… you were loved,,, and are missed….
January 3rd, 2009 at 1:14 pm
I like the way you personalised this Rob!
January 3rd, 2009 at 2:19 pm
Beautiful and sad. The photograph of crows leads cleverly into their use in the poem. How sad that our memories become so worn that they turn into memories of memories instead of memories of reality.
January 3rd, 2009 at 6:14 pm
oh that was so sweet. but the memories linger.
happy new year Rob
January 4th, 2009 at 12:49 am
Very beautiful.
January 4th, 2009 at 8:52 am
beautiful and so deep
“this is not a poem
it is much more” - that says it all.
double bass and silver flute - i have just wrote something with that title few weeks ago, had to smile, and you gave me another look at my own writing.
touching and moving. not a poem but much more - love and memories melted together. silent and strong
January 4th, 2009 at 11:11 am
Such haunting and beautiful imagery. You never cease to amaze me.
January 6th, 2009 at 3:43 am
I’m at that stage of life (’the dinosaur I’ve become’) where fear of forgetting haunts me almost daily; a fear intensified by having an elderly mother who has forgotten most of what she knew, including my father.
Just read your action plan for 2009 on WRP and admire your ambition. Good luck!
January 6th, 2009 at 3:45 am
Me again. I FORGOT to say that you’ve done a great job in crafting these titles into a moving poem.