Memories, Coming In Waves

I remember the first time I saw you

  Playing chess with Jeff on Clayton Street,

  The 409 House, a ministry for street people.

  David introduced Jeff to Pat and me after the game,

  But my eyes were on you.

I remember the first time we spoke.

  A boy gave me charge of a big, black dog

     his mother wouldn’t let him keep.

  You said, “That’s a big dog.”

  I said, “I’m trying to find a home for him.”

I remember the night you lost your virginity.

  Sweet love.

I remember sleeping beside you in Panhandle Park.

  It was a sunny day in early fall.

I remember sitting on the floor with Pat and Jeff and David

  In a hotel apartment on Market Street,

  And you sat, cross-legged, shoulders bent slightly,

     with your elbows on your knees,

  And your head tilted toward us as you told stories–

  Tales of Heinlein and of your travels.

Now your stories bring back these memories.

Every thought immerses me.

I’m about to drown in memory.

This is my third descent into my innermost parts to inspire the writing of poetry.  The first attempT was pitiful–I tried to express feeling in rhyme without reason.  During the second attempt, I discovered different levels of meaning, unplanned, but coming through in my poetry.  This time, I am writing about the things and people I know and knew.  They have all left little pieces of themselves attached to me.

This poem is about the memory of falling in love, which I think is pretty evident.

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  1. Pulled me in immediately, made me feel as though I were there with you.

    Good poem.  Successful “descent.”  Thank you.

  2. and so captures the depth of the human being you fell in love with!!!!!!

    I’ve always loved that my brother and sister-in-law had engraved on their wedding rings the line “I’ll be your witness.” It comes from some pop movie about dancing…can’t remember the name of it right now. Forgettable movie, but a powerful promise of what love means.

    • kj on September 27, 2008 at 4:46 pm

    “drown in memory”   captured it.

    I remember sitting on the floor with Pat and Jeff and David

     In a hotel apartment on Market Street,

     And you sat, cross-legged, shoulders bent slightly,

        with your elbows on your knees,

     And your head tilted toward us as you told stories–

     Tales of Heinlein and of your travels.

    Now your stories bring back these memories.

    Every thought immerses me.

    I’m about to drown in memory.

    several months back a significant person in my way back life contacted me.  it was quite awhile before i could find a touchstone to this current life… i was just plain ‘drowning in memory.’   sweet and a bit scary… and make me realize once again the dimensions of our lives are as, to use your metaphor of swimming… oceans.  deep, wide, unexpected.  coral reefs, like Robyn’s pictures the other day.

  3. I hope there’s more.  

    • Robyn on September 27, 2008 at 8:05 pm

    You changed your username.  πŸ™‚

    This is good stuff, Becky…and not because I have a personal reason to like it.  πŸ˜›

    And thank you for reminding me about the dog.  I had forgotten.

    • OPOL on September 28, 2008 at 3:43 am

    Thank you very much.

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