"Those were hard things for me to come by, and I offer them to you for what they may be worth." - Toby Wolff



Sunday, June 30, 2013

A Meal of Memory



I am so angry at your big mouth...all you ate,
years and days and months and moments
MY LIFE
devoured by a cavernous appetite

and all of us cruising by,
gawking the stranded car
unaware of so many deaths...
more dead than not.
Were we at some level aware
that as long as we maintained
our steady speed
we'd see no bones?

Had we mourned,
had we but mourned
even one,
the next might have been saved.

The loss overwhelms me.
All these corpses
mine

This, my staggering void.
I don't want to move
if every footstep is dead again.
So I weed the garden
make room for life.

Lotta damn weeds.


Some photos from Delaware. Concentration problems are a functional symptom of lack of boundaries, and a clinical symptom of depression. There are so many sad and unresolved things within the brain that there is no mental space inside to work. It is almost as if you live outside yourself (for sooooo long! Boundaries are created, or not, in the 2nd year of life!). Depression is primarily made up of feelings of loss. Feelings of loss are perpetuated by concentration problems, because they equate to a loss of memory. Kind of a fucked-up Catch 22 if you ask me. I am learning so much. The things I photograph now make eye awakening sense. Had I but mourned. I guess you start class when you are ready to learn.

Every day, is day ONE.

17 comments:

  1. I do so like the variation in point of view. This is wonderful writing. I wouldn’t have made the same connections if not for the words.
    It is so true: The desire to learn doesn’t happen until we are ready.. On the other hand I think of all I have learned that is completely useless now.

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    1. I leave commentary just for you Anthony :) I think of knowledge as a storage shed. The time will come when you may need that old blender, and that's when you'll haul it out, just then remembering it was there in the first place. Your useless info, may one day save the day. You never know :)

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  2. A purging of sorts? Wonderful metaphoric display. Hopefully cathartic.

    Gracias for sharing

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    Replies
    1. Writing is just that. Purging (for me anyway). I sat here, so upset about this giant black hole that makes up so much of my history. I wanted to release it from my body. This was the only way I knew how.

      And you're welcome! You have a beautiful name by the way.

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  3. All these corpses..mine...Annie...At the mention of Catch 22...With everyday as day ONE...The last day of our lives would be the only day we ever lived..and we don't know when that is coming...So are we all one day wonders..or is the sum of life an appearing/disappearing account of strange days..that is a fucked up Catch 22 alright..

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    1. Well, I do believe we should live every day as if it were our last, as if it were the only. I certainly have not figured out how to live that way and still keep up with things that need doing in order to be responsible for oneself, family, others. 8+ hours of every day are spent working. It seems unbalanced, and I envy those who either make a living at what they love to do, or are able to earn enough doing less, that they still have hours left in a day to live. Nope, you never know what's coming around. But I think you've the subject of a poem, or short story there.
      Appearing/Disappearing Account of Strange Days. :)

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  4. Everything we see is part of someone's story.

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    Replies
    1. And everyone we meet, is part of ours!

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    2. Great comment and reply!!!!!

      ~shoes~

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  5. All Backed Up

    I know a great drain
    guy with a powered up snake
    who can drive down through
    the main turn and drop
    driving all your past before
    the twisting snake's head
    and then he turns on
    the green garden hose
    he puts down the cast iron
    clean out until fear
    is washed all away.

    His rate is reasonable,
    less than you'd expect.

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    Replies
    1. Ha! No doubt! Sounds painful, but worth it.

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  6. rusty? movement is the only medicine...

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  7. "...had we but mourned even one,
    the next might have been saved."

    Sometimes we forget to mourn, or are afraid to mourn, maybe fearful that we would expose our vulnerability...

    Beautiful, dear...

    ~shoes~

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  8. I hate weeding the garden. But maybe it wouldn't look so beautiful if everything were perfect.

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  9. yes, yes indeed... damn those weeds.

    beautiful words... I love coming here expecting it, and never being disappointed.

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  10. i missed this due to my side trail of surgery and pain meds. i'm here to say hello and i hope you are enjoying your summer.

    lots to learn whatever the speed.

    love
    kj

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Thank you for listening.