Form: Englyn Unodl Union
I touched a shadow and called it a flame,
It smiled — but was the same.
My scars whispered his name.
Love left, but I still came.
I
forget—
like how leaves forget their tree
once autumn called them free.
Moments slip and leave
an unsettling void
for dreams to flourish.
Uninvited, wearing
the mask of memory.
A fiction sung in earnest,
stitched in gray hours—
where dreams blend into truth.
A hushed whisper:
“Beauty is truth,”—but
I wouldn’t know
if the echoes I call "mine"
ever rang—
I am built
of broken facts,
soft edits,
and pills that patch up
what my mind kindly discards—
So I wonder, if beauty is truth—
am I still beautiful
when the scars I wear were never real.
cursive letters pale
fade into weathered parchment—
they were stories once.
She flickers in the glass—
a glitch of golden déjà vu,
The paint strokes—bright, wild yellow,
but no warmth leak through.
I sometimes reach
for her dimming leaves
that hum against my skin then disappear.
I pull back and smell
ash, when nothing’s charred.
There were twelve petals yesterday,
now, only eleven.
I wake up and count again.
Still eleven,
or maybe
none.
(I’m not sure if I’ve woken,
even though I know
I tasted salt from my tears.)
Mother says we never got a dog.
But I remember—
the texture of his leather collar,
the white fur tickling my nose.
The sky runs—
watercolor pulled too far.
I check the time:
9:42 AM.
Then I open my eyes.
4:08.
She’s still there,
scorched
into my nightstand—
brushing mirage into my vision.
_______________
Inspired by Vincent Van Gogh's sunflowers, which I cannot seem to stop thinking about.
Fold and make origami
Pieces lost in the folds of time
Ripples in crystal waters of stillness
A riddle searching for responsiveness
Zipline through the playgrounds of my mind
Inverted skies stretch beyond grey
Clinging to air thick with silence
Shaped by a hope refusing to conform
Sleepily sauntering down an alley
Directionless shadows endless in their growth
Opaque walls murmuring their speechless weight
Flickering with thoughts not comprehended
Unraveling the knots of oblivion
Words hang precariously in suspense
A burst of color breaks through the frame
Slowly fading to the edge of a forgotten dream
In the rush of living my heart stops
between each beat
and for a moment
or maybe just half a moment
she is there.
Not once, but always;
Waiting for me
between those beats,
in every one of my remaining days.
“ I miss you.”
Written as if the sun’s passing mattered more.
As if being uttered with muttered words,
heard only in the hollow of a poets’ dream,
could bring the past to life
or resurrect a love.
I was sitting around the fire pit the other night telling some exaggerated tale about something or another when I completely lost my train of thought. For the life of me, I just couldn’t remember what I was talking about. So, I looked up at the sky and proclaimed that that was the brightest moon I’d seen in a while. For someone who proclaims to be a writer, I can’t tell you how frightening that was. My mind started racing with the fear that I was in the early stages of some worst-case scenario. So, I turned to my trusted companion who knows all and sees all…Google. Turns out, a slow decline in cognitive behavior is expected as we grow older. In some cases, adding a simple exercise routine can stimulate the release of chemicals to promote an increase in cognitive behavior. Though my wife will say I’m making this one up, it’s true, a healthy sex life will help. Hey, maybe they will write you a prescription for sex.
Lost in the darkness
my mind racing to find home
can’t see through the tears
I am almost asleep
comfortably drifting
when a troubling sense of loss
settles in behind my navel
it feels like a piece of me
something that I’ve done
a place that I’ve been
someone that I’ve met
has drifted off
disappeared
it taunts and teases
just out of reach
like that familiar yet forgotten name
at rest on the tip of your tongue
this sense of loss
of something gone
evokes a deep-seated melancholy
an unsettling need
to reach out and touch
what isn’t there
but should be.
an haiku each day
will keep dementia at bay
now then where was I.
Haiku in the Mirror Contest
Sponsored by Matt Caliri
July 26, 2023
Caregiving is not for the weak
Giving care trying not to be bleak
Medicine changes, pill bottles around
Changing of diapers without even a frown
Pain and regret
As they forget
Memory lapses and confusion
Sometime life is an illusion
Sometimes the routine causes stress
All you want is some rest
Many doctors to see
Thank God for the nurses helping me
Hope for the best
Pray for the rest
As we treasure each day
Before they slip away
You know what they want to say
As you help them through the day
Even though they withdraw
You know that they love you
Alzheimer's, silent thief who steals precious memories
Remembering a friend R.I.P
KATH
The years have gone by,
Your older so am I,
You have a blank expression upon your face,
Sitting in your chair.
The things you tend to do,
It's more than just old age,
We reminisce about the past
Remembering days gone by,
Ask about two days ago and your lost.
Talking the other day you looked at me and said,
"I will forget you to" ..... then looked away so sad,
It's getting harder to cope each day,
I'm scared to leave you alone.
I look at care homes on the internet,
Till I'm sure I've found the one,
That day you went I will never forget,
You said " when am I coming home" I looked away and cried,
Within a month or so you forgot your home,
I wish it was just old age.
Dedicated to my friends mum
My memories scatter, like dust of the air,
which once were more numerous than fish in the sea.
Now withered, they re-tell tales of lost youth.
At times my memories congeel and fragment,
so much so,
that I label myself untrustworthy.
I feel an emptyness that my mouth can't quantify, nor words express.
Like my soul is fleeting, ready to leave the sack of bones it hopelessly occupies.
People say that growing old is a curse,
but it's not the outward complexion that grieves me so.
Rather the rattle as my marbles drop and my memories lie in tatters.
I'm scared when the people in white coats barge in.
who say they're 'here to help' , but proceed to strip me of my my dignity,
and use pills to make me helplessly compliant.
Maybe cruel karma has punished me fast.
For little did I empathise, until I truly knew,
what it's like to be a burden, societie's disregard.
And ever shall I wish that humble soul,
will see me not as useless, but marvel at my tales.
And one day, I pray, that someone will,
outstretch to me the hand of compassion.
08.19.2020
She sits before the open window
a slight breeze not enough to cool her
watching as the curtains stir
she thinks they are speaking
words that she can't quiet hear
memories come and go-mainly of long ago
yesterday, that was just another day
already forgotten
her eyes close and faces appear
of whom she cannot recall
a smile plays on her lips-briefly
it disappears and she looks pained
she hears rumblings- her empty stomach?
or was it coming from the darkening sky?
an empty plate she saw it as it sat on the table
fear creeps in, what is my name?
why am I here alone?
she asks the empty room
but it does not answer.
Remember how once we walked through an olive grove,
we heard no sound, not even our own footsteps.
Remember how once we stood in a sea warmed by a hot sun,
our weary feet soothed in warm shallows, our skin scorched.
I remember the pain and sorrow of your departure to foreign lands,
and cried for a future that could not be ours as the sun set alone.
Now the mirror reflects back the empty years, loss and decay,
the window no longer opens- it's latch rusted in place.
Shall I open my door? venture outside?
I cannot for my old coat hangs precariously on an ageing nail.
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