Piecing it together
for a second time
the result was not the same
The years had altered
the way each piece fit
a strange familiar game
Instinct overwriting
what memory lost
the picture starts to clear
My past and future
now conjoined
—as moments reappear
(The New Room: March, 2022)
Categories:
overwriting, time,
Form: Rhyme
I use make-believe
overwriting memory
to bring me some peace
The fiction I’ve weaved
you’re at the store - you wouldn’t leave
is a fool’s relief
So I take mine neat
sweet opiate of self-deceit
my strange trick or treat
*a play, in 3 Senryus*
.
.
.
ps, I write short stories too
Categories:
overwriting, 12th grade, betrayal, emotions,
Form: Senryu
This pen is cracked and broken but luckily it still writes.
The ink is almost at an end
low, down in the point, barely visible.
Did you ever use a pen to its very end
from start to finish, the very same pen?
Interesting.
Pens are so disposable
unlike thoughts,
unlike feelings,
unlike emotions.
Memories are like pens holding our pasts
full, clear and thick in the beginning,
then draining, fading with the years,
then skipping, missing spots with overwriting.
The important things though tend to last
held fast, like permanent ink
kept safe, recorded,
written in our hearts.
Categories:
overwriting, memory, write,
Form: Prose Poetry
Just when the quick peruse
Turns obtuse
Thereby roundly refused
That noose for an excuse
We made the day quake with paper
Gracious allowance
By overwriting the undercurrent
Betting down for stamps in the sky
The commander brands his mule
Make the work horse a tuning fork
And finance a forgotten tomb
The evidence of genealogy
Categories:
overwriting, allegory,
Form: Free verse