Each day ago (to me)

My version of the Linda Marie Van Tassell poem, "Everyday Ago".

 

 

Because you asked, these things I recall,

Saturday football come sun or come rain

Having a snow cone at Echelon mall,

counting the cars of a fast-moving train

 

Bubblegum sticks with each package of cards,

ten for a dime, yea, our favorite team

Hide and seek out with our friends in their yards,

time to run home when I heard my dad scream

 

Digging to China, big holes in the ground,

sledding each winter the first snow arrived

Good luck if heads up, the penny I found,

monkey bars, playgrounds, so glad I survived

 

Saturday matinees, movies, a show,

flying a kite when the wind was just right

Piano lessons, my mom made me go,

capturing lightening bugs each summer night

 

CYO dances, the Catholic church,

hoping to dance with the girl I did like

Clover with four leaves, we’d endlessly search,

popping a wheelie on my Stingray bike

 

Mowing the grass, it was always a chore,

done for a quarter, allowance each week

Comic book Thursday down at the news store,

each Christmas morning, just sneaking a peek

 

Acting like Beatles, I thought I was Paul,

catching a catfish at Alcyon Lake

The changing seasons, my fave it was fall,

vanilla cakes that my mother would bake

 

Sundays at Grandma’s, a fried chicken meal,

chewing gum bubbles, how big could you blow

All of these moments are somehow still real,

because they’ll always be, each day ago…

 

to me

Author's Note

My version of Linda Marie Van Tassell's poem, "Everyday ago" If you haven't read hers you need to. It is beautiful.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

A marvelous generational poem; brings back wonderful memories, echoes many past sentiments and gives rise to new realizations. I wish we could freeze those memories in time, but time moves on like a wheel; a wheel of fortune and to others...misfortunes.

[willweb]

You are so right my friend. Here's hoping your wheel only provides fortunes for you.

[Sami Khalil]

I do hope so. You too. You are welcome sir WillWeb.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

We all treasure those days gone by and the innocence of youth when everything was good fun and we didn't have to take everything so serious. No responsibilities, no worries, no cares. We used to go off into the woods and stay gone all day. Ride our bikes until the street lights came on... shoot hoops at the church, hanging with kids our own age. I enjoyed the trip down memory lane. I did read Linda's poem but I enjoyed yours just as much. It's the story of a generation told from different perspectives but from a time when everyone knew their neighbors and went to sleep with their doors unlocked. A man's word and handshake was all you needed as security for a loan...it's a time often thought by myself and fondly remembered. I'm still the same me (just not that kid anymore) but man, how the times have changed.

[willweb]

Yep, those were the days as they say. Things change and so do we but our memories always seem to be the same.

[Re-Pete]

ah, the sweet innocence of youth. brings back so many familiar memories. so very well told, all come alive again ... :)

[willweb]

Thanks so much Pete. I guess the older we get the more often we look back.

[Re-Pete]

true that ... :)

[John the Baptist]

A helping of nostalgia here. The list of things remembered included many from my own past, like the bubblegum packets with cards of baseball players. Yes, and playgrounds with their monkey bars. How, indeed, did any of us survive? Of course, the Saturday matinees and mowing the yard. These things do continue to live within us, even if they're long gone by clock time.

[willweb]

Thanks so much John. I am glad you could relate

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I thought I was George.
But that stick of gum with the baseball cards...searching for a Mickey Mantle or Willie Mays.
Sunday meals in Jersey at Grandma's...
ah yes....nostalgic ride...love it.
j.

[willweb]

Very cool, my Sunday meals with Grandma were in Jersey too. Mine in South Jersey, I am sure yours were up north.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

She lived in Jersey City, and that is where my dad was born.

[willweb]

We were in Glassboro, south of Cherry Hill.

[emmajoygreen]

Here as with similar, a train of memories stopping and starting through life's never forgotten events, scents, sounds, emotions and more. As you travelled from first to last, you nudged me into a glimpse of.. then a few seconds later, yet another something but different! Our memories of the past are what makes us who and what we are, how we emote one way or another. Your poem is a headline.. a postscript.. and more, willweb, sir. Of the following, your last three words say it all:

' All of these moments are somehow still real, - because they’ll always be, each day ago '

[willweb]

Thank you so much Emma for your always kind comments on my poetry. I am happy you enjoyed this little trip back in time.

[emmajoygreen]

Truly enjoyed glimpses from another's memories. Have been writing a yearly journal since my thirteenth birthdaym now thirty years odd on, my memories liue snug and comfortable.. as yours do. Maybe one day will write about more of mine. Or not! As you infer, say, write, certain times etch into the mind, treasured, learned fromk.. and so forth. s

[willweb]

I am sure it would be fun to read if you did. Maybe someday I will see those Emma Memories posted. : )

[emmajoygreen]

Maybe boring to quite a few, will see. WC is bouncing me off quite a lot, difficult to do what I'd like for the little time I have. Meantime, will try to read instead.. perhaps review more. :)

[willweb]

It is never boring to learn new things about another, at least to me.
I haven't had any issues so far with the site but have read of other who have. Hoping yours clears up before long.

[emmajoygreen]

Hoping the same. I owe so many reviews. Gone! :)

[Lorry]

I also read Linda Marie's and enjoyed both very much.You got my synapses firing at the things I remember from my own each day ago, as well as the differences. Your stingray bike became my Grifter and latterly the much more lightweight racer, that never gave me a hernia if the person I was visitings house had steps.
But the thing I wonder most is, did your bubblegum sticks from your card collections taste ever so slightly chemical, like the smell from a hospital ward? And if so, why?
I also survived the monkey bars, but only just. 😊

[willweb]

I as well survived the monkey bars but that spinning thing...yea, it ate my lunch or I should say, had my lunch come up again. I could not handle that at all. Thanks my friend.

[Relic]

To remember these things is to bring back memories for your readers as well. I too popped wheelies on my stingray bike and remember the package of cards with gum. When I rode with my grandmother in the car, I'd get a matchbox car at the gas station. You've brought back many things in my head while I admire the things you recall. Great poem. Thanks for sharing.

[willweb]

Thanks for reading and commenting Relic. It is fun to look back on those days,

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Love it! I bet this was a fun trip down memory lane for you as well. For some reason, this made me think of Pop Rocks, I think they were called.

[Relic]

lol I remember those too, Linda. And click-clacks and glow in the dark yo yo's......

[willweb]

Thank you Linda, I am happy you enjoyed this

[willweb]

I remember pop rocks bust wasn't a big fan.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Do you remember the bubble gum that used to be in the shape of a record, that was inside of a little miniature record album cover? I always thought they were so cool.

[willweb]

I do remember them, they were cool. They weren't around too long.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

My mother had a black '66 Chevrolet Impala. I remember being in the back seat, pulling the gum out of the wrapper, reading the words of the song, and singing it out loud. Kids!

[willweb]

Fun days indeed. Wow, a black 66 Impala is a very sough after classic car these days.