a disobedient memory

artwork by sue darius

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

is it nostalgia

or a disobedient memory?

it seems to be more pixilated

as the years go by

i suppose that's a good thing

because nostalgia can be a festering wound

it's the voice haunting me at dark thirty

the unattended dance

the team that didn't want me

it's a limp carrot sitting in the crisper

years too long

the disappointment traps me

like wet concrete

holding a position of leverage

i am at its mercy

i tell myself i want that damned nostalgia

to spill into the wind 

to travel to parts unknown

and yet

i just can't bring myself

to erase it

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I wonder dear Lydia. Can we forget?
"i am at its mercy
i tell myself i want that damned nostalgia
to spill into the wind
to travel to parts unknown
and yet
i just can't bring myself
to erase it"
I understand the above lines. I have asked myself this often. Maybe we are tattoos with some things we must keep. Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry and your thoughts.
Coyote

[Lydia Shutter]

Indeed, John, once we have experienced something it is almost impossible to forget it. Thank you for reading and reviewing. Lydi**

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree dear Lydia and you are welcome.

[John the Baptist]

Interesting theme here, Lydi. I think many of us retain these less than pleasant memories. Not sure of the reason. Eckhart Tolle says it's because they're part of our identity, and without that identity we're nothing. That may be the truth. I can't come up with an alternative.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Haunting words for memories that in themselves haunt us. I really liked reading your poem. Thank you for sharing your work.

[Lydia Shutter]

Thanks so much, Carlos. Lydi**