Little Things Allow Us to Remember

I Forget Sometimes

I forget sometimes

    to set my clock’s alarm, my body a spring of coils on these mornings

I forget sometimes

               

                the day of the week, recollection muddled by the moment it’s found in

I forget sometimes

                the names of old lovers, now merely bedspreads, shadows, and sounds of

    indifference

I forget sometimes

                when I was 5 years old, a six-pack of glass bottles, mounted on my tricycle, gifted 

                me my first 13 stitches

I forget sometimes

                the man I long to be, too immersed with my consuming, never heading the 

                warnings

I forget sometimes

                that if I hold completely still, breathless, eyes grappling a pulsing night sky, there 

                are seconds when I swear my entire being blends

I forget sometimes

                what I know of God, until blindsided by overwhelming waves of magnificence

I forget sometimes

                that girl from the park, and how when she kisses, or lies, her left index finger 

                twitches

I forget sometimes

                the birthdays and appointments, anniversaries, song lyrics, and special occasions

I forget sometimes

                my mother’s smile, having been granted a view of Heaven, and thus, taken it 

                for granted

I forget sometimes

                my undeniable momentum, too often forced, by this world, to sit still

I forget sometimes

                the names of old teachers, who saw something in me the faulty mirrors 

                wouldn't reveal

I forget sometimes

                the laws of this nature, like in order for growth to happen, something 

                must be planted

I forget sometimes

                the random holding of my breath, giggling incessantly, being fearless 

                while afraid, licking this life like new fallen snow, and all the other things that 

                are considered childish sensations      

I forget sometimes

                little things I’m glad to have, too caught up in my trials to focus on the treasures

I forget sometimes

                this pleasure derived from words, until its intensity fills me, awesome and 

                unmeasured

I forget sometimes

                old stanzas of my life, full of repetitive mistakes, where I couldn’t refrain

I forget sometimes

                the bench where I used to sit, back in my hometown, off the corner of 

                Vance and Main

I forget sometimes

               

                the simple and complex,

                the beginnings, the ends, and middles, in-between,

                the seemingly insignificant, as well as the essential

                and the truth, about what this all means

I forget sometimes

but sometimes, I can remember              

Because I Think, Out Loud

Lessons, Before Dying

there will come a time,

as this life draws in, because eventually it does,

all a retraction,

that you’ll sit, and wonder

if it all was worth it,

the joys and the

woes, the untimely preclusions sprinkled in

with the happenings, perhaps to prevent

boredom, those

moments

when you found yourself tapping

on the doors, of

happiness, success, failure,

and sorrow,

you won’t wallow in reminiscing, at least

if you lived it, simply accepting

what has come, and make a timely

decision

this was.

only then can you find the time

to worry, on what

comes after

When the Miles Make it Harder

Love? [Sic]

it’s this uncontrollable urge to fold

in this skin so you only get to witness me,

fully exposed, my compulsive impulsion for

unraveling at the seams, all in hopes of

you stitching me together again, your

voice, a needle, your attention, sartorial,

and I become fabric at your disposal,

take me and make raiment

that you wear on

best days, a favorite, so that you never

replace me

sometimes, I imagine getting

trapped in an elevator, or some greater

calamity, like being buried alive.

They teach you, in such stressful situations,

about taking deep breaths and closing your eyes.

they tell you to think of someplace safe

mine lies in a sliver of your winsome heart,

where if I hold completely still,

I’m overwhelmed by your rhythm,

every beating vibration is a metronome tick

keeping pace to a song

my heart keeps singing,

I count on this tune, like seconds

hoping this adds up to the moment

when it’s finally our time, we’re

together, and the stars no longer

fleck the sky, a massive

connect-the-dot to the

place where you really are

my mind traces this line, with sickness

Because I Long for the End of Struggles

My Dreams, My Works, Must Wait Till After Hell

I hold my honey and I store my bread In little jars and cabinets of my will. I label clearly, and each latch and lid I bid, Be firm till I return from hell. I am very hungry. I am incomplete. And none can give me any word but Wait, The puny light. I keep my eyes pointed in; Hoping that, when the devil days of my hurt Drag out to their last dregs and I resume On such legs as are left me, in such heart As I can manage, remember to go home, My taste will not have turned insensitive To honey and bread old purity could love.

                                                                              ---  Gwendolyn Brooks

TGIF

This week has been extremely trying, but somehow I survived it.  Between the stresses of school and a few personal issues that have me contemplating pulling out hairs, I didn't realize how happy I'd be for this week to end.

Thankfully, it's the weekend.  I think I need to relax a bit.  Back to the worrying on Monday.

Hope everyone enjoy's there weekend.  Here's a cool song to get the good times going.

Let's shuffle the week's bad vibes away.

Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet