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I need to hold on
to my memories
before they go
before they are too slow
to surface

I need to remember
the good times
and the bad
before they show
no signs
of aiding my past

I need to return
to who I was
whilst I remember
who I was
and who I am

I need to revisit
the experiences long gone
the episodes
and the scenes
and all in between

I need to
before I am too old
and the lights grow dim
and the strain is too much

I need to hold on
to my memory
and tell those who care
and tell those who will care
for me

I need to
otherwise
I will only mirror
the pity shown
and give nothing
in return

I need to
remember


Pete

Remember the past?
He hates your guts
sitting alone
drinking the shots

You in the future
looking for him
so left behind
lifeless and dim

Leave him alone
don't go to sleep
laugh and neglect
addictions to weep

He wants the power
he wants your life
yesterday-lovesongs
carry a knife

her past is not my past
my past is not her past
our past is now

pete
(1971)

I love the things your poem says of tenderness, endearment, and love....poem. I love the reality of your shortest poem. Peter, I also love your 'bar poem' truths.

Pete~

Very poignant piece.
There is a sense of desperation with the "i need to" repeated refrain, that carries the poem and makes the ending appropriately wrenching.

I like your 'ear' for line endings, too

regards,
Laurie

laurie
Thankyou for you kind comments
I will remember them until.....


pete

The truth in your next-to-last verse is already, all too apparent in nursing homes .

your poem brings this of Goytisolo to my mind......

La flor crece y se agosta
el día de verano brilla y pasa
¿y quién podrá decir
que las sombras no huelen a dondiego y a mar?

LA EVOCACION PERDURA
NO LA VIDA

Sea fragancia el tiempo del no ser
y claridad su reino

Can you translate that [even loosely] for us, Sandra? Thanks !

The flower grows and dies
summer days shine and pass
and who will be able to say that the shades do not smell of dondiego and sea?
EVOCATION LASTS NOT LIFE
Be fragrance the time of not being
and clarity its kingdom

Thank you very much, Sandra....I don't literally grasp the meaning of all of it, but its essence is beautiful.

~ Lizzytysh

Pete,

Recollections

To remember one's life
Is a sheer act of will
The joy and the strife
Set in ink with a quill.

The love and the grief
The brightness and gloom
The long summer days
And the dark of the moon.

The innocent child
Starts the long journey alone
The world weary adult
Makes a nostalgic trip home.

Over hills across vales
Through spring to the fall
The cycles of time
And the worlds within walls.

From cradle to grave
I cart this mortal frame
I remember the times,
The mystery with no name.

J.W. 2004

Cheers, Witty Owl.

Hi Witty ~

Yes, your poem does resonate with Pete's. I like all of it, but these two lines really tugged at my heart:

"The world weary adult
Makes a nostalgic trip home."

"I remember the times,
The mystery with no name."

~ Lizzy

Hi Liz~, the poem was an instant response to Pete's verses. Written and posted in 10-20 mins. This happens rarely but Pete's verses elicited such a response possibly due to synchronistic thought patterns. If I had responded conversationally I might have said to Pete- write your story down; record the memories on paper(or hard drive) while you still can. It's a process I plan to engage before too many more years pass by. Perhaps as a journal or maybe as a novel.

Cheers, Witty~

Hi Witty ~

Well, no wonder it resonates ! He and you are both very right with the nature of the problem, and a very good 'solution.' I hesitate to say more, as I can hear echoes of Tchoc, already .

However, to you both, I say, Right On!/Write On!

~ Lizzy