the attic space
is a crawling space
with spider nest homes
and house fly homes
there are empty boxes
filled up boxes
of odds and ends
that never end
some carpet pieces
lost jigsaw pieces
kids toys for the next
generations
keepsakes from the past
generations
why am I here?
well that’s not so clear
I see the time has flown
the bulb has blown
now I’m all alone
yes I’m all alone
in this dark debris
of memories
so Bill
I was just wondering
when will you be done
taking your photographs
you were never this long
in the roll of film days
when you had a couple dozen shots
but now there’s no stopping you
my mother had always been
just wondering
patiently sat filing her nails
flicking through glossy magazines
Harpers and Queen
Vanity Fair
the breathtaking scenery
had never interested her
we’d drive out each weekend
take the Oldsmobile panting up
The Skyline Drive or
Blue Ridge Highway
there were swallowtails
and black bears
if you knew just where to look
and point your toy pistols
mother watched
from the passenger seat
window wound down
breeze blowing her mini beehive
the ten most alluring women
in the world
she would read out loud and
how to marry a billionaire Bill
poor father was a delivery man
never an ambitious bone
in his weary body
the long hours delivering parcels
exacted a price on his arthritis
but you would not hear him complain
just a few more minutes honey
he would quietly say
all those Kodachrome slides
he never showed or looked at them
they sat boxed
gathering dust
like his simple thoughts
over time he feared he would one day lose
our sunny days wandering Big Meadows
with mother in the car wondering
the names of our favorite places
still sing in my ears
they echo out from overlooks
call me back each year
to Riprap Trail
Hawksbill Gap
Elkwallow and
Bacon Hollow
now I am the keeper of his thoughts
unlocked and free to wander
projected overhead
we watch them on the big screen
there’s me I point
pistols at the ready
and mom smiling and waving
a cripple with withered legs
(apologies for posting this poem twice on the Daily Post one word prompt slot. My other blog is winding down now that I am coming to the end of my travels and I inadvertently added this to that although it does have relevance there too. Managing multiple WordPress blogs from a smartphone is not always without its glitches)
(a short video taken on a boat trip off Gran Canaria using the words from my recently posted Tempests of Time poem)
I remember your face so well but then
your picture has travelled with me
down through the decades
28th March 1987 – almost thirty years ago
you must be what, forty now?
I don’t even know your name
never took the trouble to write it down
you passed me with your mum and dad
their 4×4 robust compared with my very
unsuitable 400cc Suzuki road bike
not the ideal transport on an undulating
sandy track through Aussie rainforest
four hours to cover six kilometres!
the whole campsite cheered when I appeared
that’s one amazing thing I’ve achieved
although at the time I was scared shitless
as the light faded and my confidence waned
but it was worth it just to find that beach
and the Cherry Venture wreck
sharing food and camp fires
magical moments that stayed with me forever
I wonder how they shaped your life
young boy with the cheeky smile
all covered in sand in your Lufkin hat
do you remember being stung in the sea
and my tea tree oil took away the pain and tears
the sand flies were a menace too
big fat bastards but easily swatted
if you kept your wits about you
and let them settle before thwacking them dead
it all seems such a long time ago
a distant echo on so many waves
a million tides of crashing surf
I hope life turned out well for you?
(Tea tree oil is an essential oil extracted from the leaves of the Melaleuca alternifolia, which is native to Southeast Queensland and the Northeast coast of New South Wales, Australia. It was virtually unheard of in the UK back in the eighties but is now globally widely used in many products for its antimicrobial properties despite evidence in its favour being low, according to Wikipedia. This poem links back to my previous posts on the The Cherry Venture wreck if you skip around my little Haiku Hiking interlude. Where to next I wonder).
a sparkle of diamonds float upon the ocean waves
each a reminder of lives lost to the tempests of time
the rolling swelling ubiquitous current of life
calling and beckoning with weeping siren wails
from the hulks of shipwrecked Viking longboats
multi masted clippers steely leviathan tankers
yet still we trust her promises of distant shores and
wonder at what might lie beyond her blue horizons
the shimmering glimmering wavering frontiers
sun kissed storm battered sunset gilded
each flash of light brightens the momentary eye
awareness glimmers in the fractal curve of a glance
snatched seconds break over fatal decisions made as
gaping mouths retch for the last pockets of precious air
a great portent of gushing waters salt brine our tombs
bubbles of hope molecules of flashing faces on
every sparkling diamond reflecting every perished soul
the memories of mankind captured by the tempests of time.
(so I am linking on from my previous poem and developing the theme of drowning using the image of the glinting sun on the surface of the sea – each flash of diamond light representing a lost soul).
