Long Hindsight Poems
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Once upon a time
Be sit yourself upon this chair, I have a story to tell.
It is a tale I have told you before;
You have already heard it and you know it well.
But still I insist I shall tell it to you again,
So when I am gone and taken from this world,
You too shall sit someone down and begin to explain.
This story is truthfully a metaphor;
A tale to teach an image, upon which is born,
Inside a mind, not yours or mine;
But these are the words we were taught long before.
As age creeps up on us, the words may change,
But the fable and its meaning shall remain the same.
So even when we are each gone to our graves,
These images we portray shall be pictured again and again.
In winter nights when all around us is cold
And the candlelight our only protection.
We shall each of us be able to speak of this day
And the years that came before; we shall slumber with contemplation.
In dreams we shall picture the noises we have heard;
They were told to us many times, by him or by her
And as we curl up tightly in our beds at night,
We will find ourselves taken away to a new place with these words.
And when we arise in the morning light,
We will contemplate a new meaning we have gained through insight.
We shall realise the motivation to pass the torch to a new life
And the story will continue to evolve
And to grow with each passing hindsight.
With each time the story is told, it will be open to interpretation;
With each foretelling, with each piece of knowledge gained,
We are able to choose whether to tell it as fact or fiction.
The story is ours and we are all free,
To be the ones who decide if we will allow the stories ending to change.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
You must admit,
each of us has looked back in time
reminisced about the past and all its happenings that now unwind,
the ifs, ands, buts
of how we got here to today's cascadings
upon this stage of life's long paradings,
intent and close with smile or tears of the circumstances
bound in the cycles of seasons and years dancing;
this is the look back that brings us forward to this now
the would have, could have, should have of how.
Those who knew my story,
had sad faces and sorry expressions
after all, I was born unwanted with little doubt or question,
abandoned by both father and mother
what possible promises were left to be kept or discovered,
too old to be adopted,
foster care did not await
grandmother came to retrieve my heart
allowing body and soul to escape,
she would raise this child duty-bound but safe.
There seemed no other choice,
at four I had no voice
this would be the path taken
past possibilities forsaken
only grandmother's and child's heart would be
silent questioning and prayers in the weaving tapestry.
This was the secret of my existence and arrival
meant to be never spoken of, for survival,
but as I grew,
I always wondered why
the method of the madness in my life slides,
the anger and resentment
that I was unwanted
left my imaginings haunted
but as I learned, observed and listened,
the path was well-guided, wisely provided;
alternate realities of my teenage and future years
produced a life lived well with laughter and tears,
no regrets, just a look back at how it was,
quiet acceptance,
of how I got to here.
For Crystal Woods contest, Hindsight 20 20
in retrospect, looking back and looking forward - we are all who we were meant to be.
No rhyme nor reason why
yours truly recalled how
me late mother
(earlier in her fitbit livingsocial years)
non verbally communicated disgust
(insync with audible sigh)
quite often ultimatums
blasting fulminating nauseating
scathing well nigh
she loosed loathing against
grungy looking son (guess who)
futilely escaped wrath of Harriet Khan
clamoring upon rooftop high
offering birds eye view
out of earshot and eyesight aye
catching sunbeams while smiling wry
cowardly lion sought divine intervention
courtesy sheltering sky
acres of shingles I sprawled
these lovely bones did lie
property of garden variety generic guy.
She who helped beget and birth
sole heir inheriting gamut of behavioral quirks
linkedin with many predecessors,
who trod, slunk, roamed...
across planet Earth.
Best bet said present day scribe i.e.
poetic, nonesstablishmentarian, liberal,
jesting, humble, freelance, dilatory bummer
whose hindsight evinced a student dumber
than his classmates wheedled
(as targeted scapegoat) by bullies their flummer
re: entrapped - worse louse than lice
internalized trauma left figurative tread marks
analogous to raging road runner
pressing accelerator pedal of hummer
driven by (an actual person) one Roger Kummerer.
Despite agonizing vicious tongue lashing
against flesh and blood,
which venomous invisible whiplash
never petered out
(even when sundry bloke
got married and gladly left home)
abusive treatment markedly
left appalling, loathing and percolating
ambivalence if though mama passed away
(these last seventeen plus years) wrung
cash crop of poetic endeavors,
albeit resultant lackluster
literary crafted aspirations.
Memory of mom overshadowed
by similar facsimile thereof
think shrieking banshee,
an indelible psychological imprimatur,
I strive to acknowledge
emotional reverberations to date
(May 27th, 2021).
My trademark wordsmith fashioned communiqué
impossible mission to shake off bittersweet feelings
toward once (former) Arthur Murray dance instructor
which fancy footwork synchronized with favorite
debonair handsome young fella (papa)
both flirts buoyant with elan and energy
only thru death will angst become free
interestingly enough hands will clap with glee.
There is normal heatlty living.' There is sub-standard and full of i'lls, then a new
Term
Was tacked up in 2020 by some snake oil
Selling shills' thinking now in hindsight.?
That gets my blood to chill.' New-normal.?
Was the term rolled out, by those drainstream
Media types, simpering and a'whimpering
All white teeth; slimline suits.and hype.'
Yet all around an (un-normal!) reigned
That no one it seemed could name.? In
Thinking now, the word they coined was
A mirror to the lies deciet and pain.' Much
Was false, and socially un-acceptable in
The main.' Yet eased into a closure? we saw small buisnesses shut, there was a
Waryness of your neighbour, while the
Governance exuded trust.' Yes i know it
Was un-normal, this had never been done
Before..Because it would cause devestation to free living, and independant buisness ' now thats for sure.'
Opposing energies magnetize their clustered convictions,
Lastly, amassed intentions remain beyond comprehension,
Presently, polarized detachments collapse in their face-off,
Ulterior effectiveness spotlights their futile parties,
Action demands prompt communication, and trust begins to rise,
Credence anchors individual aspirations to form,
Insights gaining momentum furtherance sparks enthusiasm,
Welcoming yielded principles, sanctions relevant accord,
Restrict naught one's conclusions with a particular outlook,
Narrow points exert pressure amongst willing participants,
Obstructs equitable compromise, shadowing a stalemate,
Broadening perspectives enables means for negotiation,
Opportunities will modify one's beholden opinions,
At all times, vast or modest, voice concerns without skepticism,
Participation amidst others will rally the reserved,
Cooperation inaugurated embraced invitations,
Unswervingly, uniting the collective wholeheartedly,
In hindsight, repetitious history craves inferred foresight:
Matured apple-eaters, ripened-keepers of the lesser kingdoms,
Furthermore, equanimity amidst all that encompasses,
And to that end, understanding, we are resolved, henceforward,
Our prospective generations, producing the greatest
Godsend as Earth’s human symbionts ... what I (really) want.
If I was young and only knew
the things that I now know.
Then youth would be a wondrous thing
the pathways I would go.
But always doing as one’s told
restricted every day.
I’d rather be as old as me
(if pains would go away).
For age has its advantages
without the chains of youth.
Remembering the ‘good’ times
and forgetting the uncouth.
Age even gives us hindsight
to correct the things we’ve done,
so we don’t make the same mistakes
and fall down on our bum.
Apart from all the aches and pains
I think I’d rather be,
As old as I am living now
.....and as old as I will be!
Ivor G Davies
Inspired by Robert Broadbent’s “Oh to be young again”
You were going to be my forever,
Had a whole life planned for us,
You made me lighter than a feather,
Floating, loved, careless.
All my life waiting for the girl of my dreams,
Finally found my one and only,
All this pain, I never gleamed,
Lost, confused, solitary, lonely.
I wish I could go back and fix it all,
Be the man you wanted me to be,
Found my self stuck in an endless free fall,
Hindsight, I wish I could see.
My heart is forever yours,
Do with it what you want,
I can't help but open the door,
You're beauty and soul, romaunt.
Now we're just whispers passing by,
Memories floating adrift,
Inside my soul wants to cry,
Our future to heavy to lift.
I love you.
In hindsight
I suspect my dad silently hoped,
secretly conceived,
vicariously needed his dream
I would become a multi-talented musician.
He said, No.
behind my mother's gentle apron
strings of soft-voiced disappointment,
but also hidden within unspoken fear
of Catholic influence
when I was invited to join
The Vienna Boy's Choir.
I was too young.
I would be missed--the farm was an absorbing enterprise.
I wasn't ready.
They weren't ready, yet,
to let go.
But, then offers of guitar
and piano
and trombone lessons,
and choir
and worship music leader
soon followed,
as if from straight white watered
washed
and lied patriots
blessed by prize-giving patriarchs
who listened barely long enough
to hear I was marketably good
as an entertainer,
a professional,
not just another deep soul singer
or deeply soiled male dancer.
I don’t understand people who sacrifice their fun and freedom to appear with self control that only knows of shame beneath them
the ones dressed up in expensive clothes
who stand around all prim and proper
looking down their nose at those
found lower on the social ladder
They’re terrified you’ll realise they’re absolutely useless
they provide a sense of pride whilst making daft excuses
they’ll talk a game of expert claims but you won’t see them do this
they’ll speak their mind in hindsight times to hide they are recluses
their character will alter
to fit who they are talking too
saying what they oughta
regardless of what they think true
They try to act mature thinking mature would never laugh
they try to seem assured but listen closely they sound daft
they’ll be the first to tell you of the skill sets that they have
they call it LDE and there’s a lot of it in Bath
And LDE won’t recognise it acts the way it’s sized
always overcompensating always on the rise
always competing always thinking there’s a prize
always acting like they’re not they’re wearing a disguise.
Now, we all know there is a past,
but what we tend to overlook is
it can only be observed from the present,
or in hindsight
The same goes for the future
It can only be imagined
or extrapolated from the present
with a bit of foresight of course
Which leads to a curious question,
Is the present where everything begins?
Sounds ridiculous and counterintuitive
because Yesterday was yesterday,
and tomorrow will be tomorrow
And honestly I agree,
but only when viewed from today
All right, let’s scale this up a little
Let’s go all the way back
not to the Big Bang or creation
or any of that mad stuff,
I mean way before,
to the moment something, anything,
first came to be
Where did that absolute point extend from?
I promise,
I’ll get to that presently
But first, let’s jump ahead
way ahead into the future
To the end of all ends
the point where nothing else can come after,
Yeah that should be far enough
Okay, back to my promise
to explain the point where
everything starts and ends
Well it should be pretty obvious by now,
Everything starts in its own present.
The past was full of presents
the future will be too
And the most important part
you/me as conscious observers
bridge it all together
with our perception of present time
So there you have it,
Infinity and eternity
once thought to be endless
and originless all explained
in one fell swoop,
by some guy with a
very questionable imagination
By now it’s quite possible
or highly likely you’re thinking
Come on! I wasn’t born yesterday!
and that’s ok
Because I might die tomorrow
and still command the centre of attention
present starts and ends
our future only extends
whilst the past depends
By
David Kavanagh